LOGINIn the third year of being locked up in a psychiatric hospital by Jonathan Fowler, I had already lost all of my vibrance and vitality. During a particularly harsh winter, Jonathan's new girlfriend, Charlotte Stewart, visits me in the hospital. She caresses my sunken cheek lovingly with one hand. "You must be Jon's legally-wedded wife, right?" I just stare at her in alert without saying anything. The next thing I know, Charlotte shoves me down the stairs. Her expression is already twisted into one of malice. "Everyone tells me that I'll get to marry Jonathan once you're dead, so just hurry up and die already!" I don't have any energy to fight back. After crashing onto the floor, I'm left bleeding and broken. After struggling in the operating theater for one full day, I managed to survive the ordeal. With red-rimmed eyes, Jonathan rushes into the ward and grasps my hand. "Mallory, I promise that if you agree to stay alive and not pin the crime of manslaughter on Charlotte, I can let bygones be bygones! In fact, I won't disturb you anymore for the rest of your life!" I don't have the strength to respond to Jonathan. That's when the System, which has stayed silent for a very long time, suddenly speaks in my mind. [Congratulations. You've maxed out the male lead's guilt. You may now leave this world.] I secretly let out a sigh of relief. Finally, I can go home.
View MoreVERA SINCLAIR
It began with a drizzle on my legs, face, and arms while my mind lingered in a sleepy fog. But the tapping continued, bringing me back to consciousness. My eyes opened, groggy and confused, only for my breath to catch at the sight that awaited me. Water poured in from above, soaking my bed, blankets, and everything else before the roof collapsed with a deafening crash. A scream tore through my throat as I leaped out of bed at the last second, only to slip and land miserably on my side as gallons of water crashed through the room. My heart raced as I got up, slipping and crashing back down before finally getting to my feet, adrenaline taking over as I stumbled out of the room. "Noa!" My son's name was the only thing on my mind as I rushed to his room to find him sitting upright in his crib, his small face twisted with confusion. “We have to get out of here!” My hands trembled as I picked him up, and a familiar voice broke through the rain at that moment. “Miss! Are you okay?” “No!” I yelled back, grabbing the nearest blanket and wrapping it around Noa and me. "My bedroom collapsed!" I yelled, unsure what to do as the floodwaters approached. Just then, a loud crack of thunder rumbled overhead, shaking the walls. Lightning flashed, lighting up the room, and I pressed myself into a corner, a terrified sob ripping through my throat. I had always been terrified of lightning. "Shh, baby, it's okay," I whispered as Noa cried. Just then, the man's voice rang out again, followed by a loud pounding on the door. Sprinting to the front door, I waded through the now-flooded hallway, the rain still pouring in. Ripping the door open, the man's eyes widened as he took in the mess. "The roof," I mumbled. "It just collapsed. There’s water everywhere.” I explained, my voice ringing hollow in my ears, and the man's expression turned grim as he asked for the items I wanted to save. “You can stay at my place tonight. We’ll figure this out in the morning," he said, and my mind spun, not knowing what to do. My clothing and other belongings were floating in the flood. There was nothing to save. "Noa's things," I finally said, pointing to his small stash of blankets and clothes that were still dry for the time being, and the man quickly gathered whatever he could while I tried to keep my baby calm. He threw the bags over his shoulder and grabbed the blankets before turning toward me. “Let’s go. Come on.” He said, and I moved toward the door. But as I opened the door further, a chill ran through my body, not from the rain, but from the voice in my head reminding me I didn't know this man. It was true. I had only exchanged one greeting with him when Noa and I arrived two days before. Every instinct told me that this was reckless, perhaps even dangerous. But what options did I have? The house was destroyed, and I had nowhere to go. As if the man could read my mind, he introduced himself as Timothee, and before I could respond, he promised he wouldn't hurt us. So I forced the doubts down and took another step, but I paused again the moment I stepped onto the porch at the scene that greeted me. Six black SUVs lined up like predators waiting to strike, and then, as if on cue, the doors flew open. A scream ripped through my throat, instinct propelling me forward as I made the fastest turn of my life. Tim stumbled out behind me, perplexed when he saw me running. He said something. But the sound of car doors slamming shut, followed by boots hitting the ground, drowned out his words. I screamed at him to run, to save himself, as I grabbed him by the arm, pushed him back into the house, and slammed the door shut. "Who are they? What’s happening?” He yelled, fumbling to push a chair against the door, but I told him there was no time for that, darting toward the window in the back of the house. The window was too high to jump through safely, but it was our only way out. So I wrenched it open just as the deafening bang of the front door being kicked in echoed throughout the house. The wind and rain beat down on my face, but I couldn't feel or hear anything over my heartbeat pounding against my ears. “We have to go! Timothee, come on!” With my arms firmly wrapped around my son, I thrust myself through the small window, my eyes fluttering shut as I fell, bracing for the impact. We crashed, and a puddle beneath us broke our fall, but it was far from gentle. Pain erupted from my side, and my head snapped back, disorienting me, but my grip on my son tightened instinctively as I struggled to get up. "Miss!" Tim's frantic voice echoed above me before the sound of bullets pierced the night, and my body reacted before my mind as I scrambled to my feet, my legs wobbling beneath me while my baby's terrified cries broke through the storm. "Give me the baby!" Tim yelled with extended arms, his face pale and drenched. But I didn't. "No!" I choked out, stumbling forward. I couldn't let go of him, and a wall appeared out of nowhere. The impact sent me to my knees, a sharp pain shooting toward my hip, but I didn't have time to pay attention to it. So I got up just as Tim grabbed my arm and pulled me up, dragging me forward. “The car! We need to get to the car!” he yelled, but I was not listening. All I could hear was a voice screaming: He found us. He found us. How did he find us? “Get in! Get in now!” His yell jolted me back, and I immediately jumped into the car. Noa's wails were deafening, his fingers clutching my shirt as if he understood the danger we were in. Tim rushed in and slammed the door before shoving the keys into the ignition. The engine roared to life, and the tires spun against the wet ground, but eventually took off. However, soon, headlights pierced the darkness behind us. They were coming! “Who are these people?!” Tim shouted in a shaking voice as he sped toward the gate. I first apologized for putting him in danger--I had jeopardized their lives by coming here. However, he ignored that, asking once more who the people were. “The Mafia! My ex! My baby daddy wants me dead!” “What?!” I didn’t get the chance to explain as the car lurched violently with a deafening blast that ripped through the night, and the next thing, we were airborne. I held my son close as the car flipped and whispered, "I'm so sorry." Everything spun up, down, sideways, in a sickening spiral before the startling crash, followed by the smell of burning metal and smoke... and then... nothing.Charlotte ended the call and sat down beside my tombstone, leaning against Jonathan's shoulder. The wind blew past, carrying a faint scent of gardenias.She closed her eyes, and tears slid down her cheeks. "I don't want to live anymore, either. You're the one who turned me from a rookie actress nobody knew into the A-lister that I am now. I decided a long time ago that I was yours, so why wouldn't you even look at me?"When the police arrived, Charlotte didn't struggle. She quietly held out her hands. The moment the cuffs closed around her wrists, she turned back for one last look.…I looked at the photo of myself on my tombstone, taking in my bright smile.Jonathan's hand was still resting on the picture. The wind lifted the hem of his coat. For a second, it felt like the first time in his life that he'd ever held me.I stood above the clouds, watching it all from a distance.The system's cold, mechanical voice rang out in my ears. [The passage has opened. Would you like to re
The gates remained shut. Charlotte kneeled there the entire night.The next morning, the gate finally opened. Bretman was the one who came out. He stood on the steps, his face blank as he looked down at Charlotte, who was disheveled and miserable."Mr. Fowler asked me to pass on a message," he said.Charlotte lifted her head, her eyes swollen from her crying. "What did he say?""He said, 'You're not even worthy of worshiping at her feet.'"The gates swung shut again, leaving Charlotte frozen to the spot. Then, she laughed. As she laughed, tears began to fall."I'm not worthy?" She pushed herself to her feet and staggered a little. "Mallory is the one who isn't worthy. Even in death, she still has to steal you from me. Even after everything I've done, I'm getting nothing."She stumbled back the way she came, mumbling the same words over and over. "I can't accept this… I can't…"…Three days later, Jonathan made arrangements for my funeral. He personally chose a plot of land for
After Charlotte left, Jonathan kept vigil upstairs for three days and three nights. He didn't eat or drink throughout that time. He just sat by the bed, holding my hand, which had long gone cold.On the fourth day, Bretman pushed the bedroom door open and stopped at the doorway, looking hesitant. "Mr. Fowler."Jonathan didn't look back.Bretman tightened his grip on the envelope in his hand and took a deep breath. "Mr. Fowler, I've recently found out some things."He walked forward and set the envelope on the nightstand. "Three years ago, the photo that Mrs. Fowler saw of you and Charlotte shopping together was staged by Charlotte. She hired someone to take it and anonymously mail it to Mrs. Fowler. "And that video of you two kissing on set—she paid to have it pushed onto the trending page."Jonathan's back went rigid.Bretman's voice grew heavier. "After Mrs. Fowler was locked up in the psychiatric hospital, Charlotte kept trying every possible way to find out where she was. F
Charlotte heard the news on the third day. She'd just been discharged from the hospital when, in reality, she hadn't fainted at all. It was all an act.Her assistant handed her the phone, looking uneasy. "Charlotte, Mallory Silva is dead."Charlotte was touching up her makeup. Her hand paused. "What did you say?""Jonathan Fowler's wife, Mallory Silva, killed herself in the hospital. The news is everywhere."Charlotte froze for two seconds. Then, she couldn't stop the corners of her lips from curling up. She quickly ducked her head and pretended to wipe away tears."Oh, my God, that's so tragic… Why did she do something so extreme?" she murmured.She lifted her head and squinted hard, working her eyes until they turned slightly red. "I need to go to Jon right away. He must be devastated."She practically ran out of the hospital.Once Charlotte got in the car, she used the rearview mirror to practice her expressions. She needed to pinch her brows a little and press her lips toge
After a long time, Jonathan's assistant, Bretman Reeves, came to take me back to the psychiatric hospital.The moment they locked me back in the room, my phone buzzed. I picked it up with difficulty and saw that the trending feed had exploded.There were articles titled, "Mallory Silva Goes Crazy
I was taken aback, and so were the reporters.Charlotte yanked up her sleeve, revealing a large patch of purple bruises on her arm. "I know you love Jon, and you hate that I'm always around him. But I never once thought about stealing him from you. Why do you have to push me this far? Why do you wa
When Jonathan saw the smile playing on my lips, he gritted his teeth and snarled, "Is it that hard for you to just stay by my side? And is it that hard for you to tolerate Charlotte? No matter how wild she and I get, you'll still always be my wife."I turned my head away. "I had to go through all o
I'd just been dragged back from the brink of death, but instead of being wheeled into the ICU, I was transferred to a regular hospital room.Seeing how pale I still was, Jonathan Fowler softened his tone. "Don't worry. I'll get the best doctors to save you, but on one condition. Lottie's career is


















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