005

Lavanda

I wonder if anyone is asking about my whereabouts. I hardly take a day off at work.

The maids pack the dishes from the table. My stomach lurches. I haven't eaten.

I sneak off to the kitchen. I pull the door handle.

It doesn't budge. I try again. Nothing.

I'm about to pounce on it when I hear the jingling of keys.

"Are you hungry, sister?" Her cruel smile fills her stupid face.

I curl my nails. She's doing this on purpose.

"Do you want this?" Her red nails play with the keys.

Three painted in gold. The other steel. That's the one I need.

"Can you see how much your beloved husband wants me?"

I dig my nails deeper. My stepsister was always the planner.

"I only see an unloved bastard," I spit, noticing her red hair packed into a simple bun.

"Playing the submissive wife already, sister?"

She fumes. "You never shared your toys with me. And now I have what belongs to you."

I laugh coldly. "He loves you because of that thing in your womb. Not you."

"Then why did he fuck me several times in his office and take me to fertility clinics?"

Confusion spreads across my face. I didn't know he was grooming her all this while. How little I know my husband.

"Accept it. Desmond is mine," she whispers close to my ear.

Is that how much he wanted a child that this was the only solution?

Was I stupid for staying in this marriage?

She flashes the bank card. "Better get ready."

I watch her take the kitchen keys and the card.

The only way I get locked up, is If Red doesn't show up at the party.

At the Mall

The car is filled to the brim. We took a Rolls Royce and two extra security guards.

Cyanne wears a short dress that exposes her legs while she gawks at her phone.

Her eyes are a bit dim and anxious as she's on it. I wonder who she's texting.

Probably one of her sugar daddies. Desmond rarely texts during meetings.

She puts the phone down and I remove my hand from my stomach.

"I want to get married to Desmond." Her voice booms casually across the car and I know she means it.

Then marry him. I say

"He's still in love with you," she adds.

I laugh tears in my eyelid. You are pretty delusional to think that.

Double thick lines on her face. "Just dissapper "

I wish. I smile at her

That devilish smirk spread across her face but flickers this time and I know I had struck a nerve.

I can barely breathe through the crowds that are trooping to meet Cyanne. It's like she's a mini celebrity here.

No wonder she chose this place to rub it in my face. To show how much they need her.

Yet the only thing I see are fake smiles, fake hugs, and the way people lean in to feel included.

I don't want to be here. This is her life. Not mine.

We're never close, no matter how our parents tried to force us to play nice.

"I'm through," she eyes me, looking at my empty hands.

My hands search from one glass wardrobe to the other lazily. One eye on the crowd.

Searching for help. I slip off in another direction, away from her sight.

I hear her laughing with someone in the background.

Good. She's distracted.

This place looks expensive. More than her paycheck.

My eyes dart over my shoulder for the guard trailing me. I want to lose him.

I slip into another section when I catch sight of a lady in corporate wear.

My body bumps into hers. She catches me before I fall. "Are you okay?"

"Not quite," I turn to check if the guard followed me here. Great. I lost him.

"Can you help me?" I beg.

She hesitates, deciding whether to help or not. "Is anyone after you?"

"Yes. Yes. I just need to get out of here."

She dips her hand into her bag.

"Sister, have you started again?"

Cyanne's voice makes the stranger stop.

"Is she your...?" The stranger points, like she knows Cyanne.

Cyanne nods. "I've been looking for her all over the place. She's a bit out of it."

"Oh, that explains it. She thinks someone is after her."

No words come out of my mouth to defend myself. I'm so cooked.

"Sorry. I'm going to go now," the stranger apologizes and leaves me with no second thought.

Cyanne's hands grip my hair tightly. The guards watch but do nothing.

I try to yank free but I'm partly weak from not eating anything.

"After this, Desmond won't even recognize you."

"Cyanne, stop."

"Cyanne, stop it."

"Stop it, please."

I fight with what little strength I have. Too late.

She smashes my head against one of the glass wardrobes causing a crack.

Blood drips from my head to the floor.

I fall on my knees breathing hard as I blink my eyes.

Cyanne stands there, smiling. "That's for calling me a bastard."

Her figure dances in front of me. My head throbbing from the impact.

I blink severally the pain intense. Suddenly everywhere is pitch black. If this is the price I have to pay for freedom, I will do it gladly.