Chapter 4: His Crazy Girlfriend

Caroline's POV 

His hands grabbed my arms, steadying me, and I looked up into Anderson’s face. 

His dark eyes narrowed, sweeping over me, “What’s wrong?” the tone of his voice was low, sounded like he was concerned, or suspicious.

I opened my mouth to tell him, but the words wouldn’t come. 

They stuck in my chest. How could I explain?

 How could I tell him I’d seen a man bleeding out, and Solana standing over him with a knife stained in blood “I—I saw—” My voice cracked.

Anderson’s phone rang in his pocket, "Hold on," he said as he reached for it.

 He glanced down at his phone, his jaw tightening, “Wait here,” he said, "I'll be right back."

 He lifted the phone to his ear. “Yeah, what is it?” he snapped, his voice fading as he walked down the hall.

“No—wait—” I reached for him, my fingers brushing his sleeve, but he didn’t stop. 

He didn’t even look back. I stood there, frozen, watching him disappear around the corner. 

Just then, I felt a hand fastened over my mouth, stopping my scream before it could escape.

 My eyes widened, my body jerking as something sharp was pressed against my throat. A knife.

 The blade’s edge bit into my skin, not deep enough to cut but enough to make me feel its cold and sharp edge.

 My muscles locked, and terror washed over me like a flood.

Solana’s breath grazed my ear, “You shouldn’t have seen that,” she whispered, her words sent a shiver down my spine. 

She dragged me backward, toward the room I’d just fled. 

My feet brushed the floor, but she was stronger than I’d ever imagined. 

 She kicked the door open, and shoved me inside. 

It slammed shut behind us with a loud sound that echoed like a gunshot.

She pressed the knife harder, I felt a sting of pain as it kissed my skin. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

 The body of the man she killed lay lifeless on the ground. 

“You’re going to die a fool’s death, Caroline,” she said, “Just like this man right here.” 

My mind raced, searching for a way out.

 I couldn’t die here, not like this, not at her hands. “Please,” I gasped, the word choked against her palm. “I won’t tell anyone. I swear.”

She let out a cruel laugh, “Oh, Caroline. You think your empty promises can save your life now?” 

She pushed me against the wall, the impact made my spine jolt. 

The knife was pointed at me this time, “You think you can come between me and Anderson? I'd kill you before I let that happen.”

Tears gathered around my eyes, but I blinked them back, refusing to let her see me cry. 

My hands trembled, pressed flat against the wall, searching for anything, perhaps a weapon, a way to fight. Nothing. Just an empty room with a dead man in it. 

“I didn't know Anderson was with you,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “I didn't have any choice in the arrangement.”

She tilted her head, her dark hair cascading over one shoulder, “I didn't know Anderson was with you,” she repeated, mockingly. 

“You think that changes anything? Your pathetic little existence is already a threat to my affair. This house, Anderson, his properties, they are mine. And you?” 

She smirked, pressing the knife in my chest just enough to draw a drop of blood. I felt it flow down my chest. “You’re just a pawn in the game.”

The door creaked behind her slowly and her grip on the knife wavered. Her gaze darted to the door, just for a heartbeat, and I didn’t think, I acted. 

I pushed her with every ounce of strength I had, my palms smashing into her chest. 

She stumbled back, the knife slipping from her hand, and I headed for the door.

 My fingers struggled with the handle, but it  eventually opened, I opened it wider and ran into the hallway, gasping, my legs barely supporting my weight.

Anderson stood there, his phone still in his hand, his eyes wide with shock. “Caroline.”

“Solana,” I choked out, pointing a trembling hand back at the room. “She, she’s trying to kill me.” My voice broke as I leaned against the wall, my knees buckling.

He moved past me, his expression hardening into something I couldn't read.

I watched, my heart slamming hard within my chest as he stepped into the room. 

Solana straightened, but the knife was gone, and the body hidden. 

She smiled at him, sweet and harmless, like she hadn’t just held a blade to my throat. “Anderson, darling, what’s all this about?” 

He didn’t answer. He moved past her, scanning the room, seeing nothing. He walked back to her, his gaze sweeping over her, “What is going on?" He asked.

Her smile wavered. “She threatened to kick me out of your house," she lied, "claimed she is your new wife and I'm no longer needed in the house.”

My eyes widened in shock, anger rose within my chest like a whirlwind. "She's lying," I snapped.

"Shut up," Anderson's voice cut in, "Go back to your room,” he said curtly.

Without another word, I stormed out of the hall as anger and humiliation burned in my chest.

Entering my room, I locked the door, changed into my nightgown and collapsed on the bed.

But I couldn’t sleep; tears streamed down my face as I replayed the nightmare in my mind.

 I cried uncontrollably, my body shaking, until a knock at the door interrupted my anguish.

With a slow drag of my body, I rose and opened it, and saw Anderson standing there at the entrance.

 He stepped in and switched on the bulb.

 The sudden brightness of the light exposed my tear-streaked face and the delicate fabric of my pink nightgown. 

I assumed he’d come to scold me for the mess Solana had created.

But instead of reproach, his gaze swept over me. “Caroline,” he said quietly, his eyes fixed on my boobs. “Take off your nightgown.”