Chapter 7

                    ☆Samira☆

For a week, her words rang in my head, replaying over and over again.  

Since that day, she had maintained her distance, avoiding my gaze and withholding her unsettling smiles.

It felt as though she had never spoken those words at all, or maybe she was pretending.

Did I want them dead?

Absolutely! 

But I wanted the satisfaction of being the one to plunge the knife into their hearts.

I had pictured it countless times.

Them pleading for mercy, begging for forgiveness, yet each time I drove that knife deeper.

But the woman who had planted this idea in my mind seemed disinterested, or maybe she was testing me. Or worse, it could be a trap.

I had done some digging into her background: Cameron, forty years old, serving a life sentence for the cold- blooded murder of her billionaire husband.

It didn’t shock me, it only clarified why she had suggested I take out Daniel. She was a ruthless killer, one of the most feared inmates in this prison.

She didn’t appear dangerous, yet those who crossed her mysteriously ended up dead.

That was precisely what kept me from approaching her. I had been warned to keep my distance from her.

It was also rumoured that she was the reason why I was not receiving beatings from other inmates or why my room mate had disappeared.

I kept my distance, and to my surprise, she did too.

 But then Uncle Ben visited me this afternoon, delivering the news that Daniel and Kate were getting married tomorrow, and my anger ignited.

As visiting hours came to a close, I walked into the prison courtyard, heading straight for Cameron, who was sitting alone, reading a newspaper.

My fists were clenched, my heart heavy.

“How?” I demanded.

She slowly lifted her gaze.

“Shut your mouth and take a seat,” she snapped.

I glanced around, attempting to steady my nerves. Most inmates were busy with their own affairs.

“Walls have ears,” she warned.

Reluctantly, I sat down, even though there were no walls nearby.

“How are you, Samira?” she asked, a wide grin stretching across her face.

“They’re getting married,” I replied flatly.

“I know, which is why I arranged for us to have a front row seat at their wedding,” she said with a mischievous light in her eyes.

I stared at her, struggling to swallow as my throat went dry.

“Tomorrow, before lights out, volunteer in the kitchen, and I’ll come to pick you up for our first date,” she giggled, rising from her seat.

“What?” I stammered.

“You heard me. We’re going to have a blast,” she laughed, running away.

I got up, but she was already chatting with some guards, forcing me to sit back down.

I couldn’t grasp what she meant by a front row seat to the wedding, but I waited. The next day, I followed her instructions and volunteered for kitchen duty, and true to her word, she came to get me.

She was buzzing with energy, talking about how long it had been since she’d had a real playdate.

Regret washed over me. This woman did not seem stable. But when she led me to the empty TV room and switched on the screen, the pieces began to fall into place.

We were going to watch Daniel and Kate’s wedding. 

The couple had struck a deal with a television network to broadcast their wedding live for all to see.

It was an extravagant wedding, filled with elite guests, billionaires, and stars from every corner of the globe.

It was different to my wedding with Daniel which was an intimate ceremony on the beach, shared only with our closest family.

He never wanted anything extravagant.

“It seems like Kate wants you glued to the screen, so you might as well indulge,” Cameron said, tossing me a bag of popcorn.

I shot her a frosty glare.

“No pressure, I’ll enjoy the popcorn solo,” she replied, settling into her seat.

I was torn, I didn’t want to sit down, yet I couldn’t bring myself to leave. I wanted to watch, to see the face of the man who had betrayed me. 

It had been months since I last laid eyes on him, not since that fateful day at the hospital, the day my world was shattered.

“You should sit down before you faint,” Cameron cautioned, but I remained steadfast, my gaze fixed on Kate as she walked down the aisle in a lavish gown.

She was undeniably stunning, I could not refute that.

The cameras turned to Daniel, and a chill swept through my chest.

He looked fit and healthy, standing tall with no signs of his previous injuries.

 A broad smile lit his face, as if he was looking at something enchanting for the first time in his life.

He didn’t appear boxed or forced into this moment. In fact, he seemed more joyful than he ever was during our own wedding.

He looked like a man who had been waiting for this day his entire life.

I finally blinked, realizing I had been foolish to expect anything different, but the truth hit me, I was still clinging to a hope that was long gone.

I stood there, watching them exchange vows, hearing their “I do’s,” and listening to the speeches from their families.

 Linda even had the audacity to suggest what a nightmare her son’s first wife had been. She urged Kate to be the wife her son truly deserved.

Those words stung as the newlyweds laughed, but I didn’t shed a tear.

I think my tears had run dry, or perhaps I had simply shut them off, but then the screen went dark.

Cameron stretched and yawned, “That felt way too scripted.”

“Turn it back on!” I shouted at her.

“It’s bedtime, watching these fools won’t change anything,” she countered.

I stormed over to her, my eyes scanning for the remote. “Where is it? Hand it over!”

“Do you want them to suffer slowly or quickly?” she asked.

I halted abruptly.

“Just say the word.”

I locked eyes with her, searching for an answer that left me.

“See? You’re not ready,” she said, pushing me back.

“I want to do it!” the words burst forth. “I want to plunge the knife deep into them both while they plead for mercy. I want them to know it’s me!” I shouted.

Her lips curled into a wide grin.

“You did it with your husband, didn’t you?” I asked.

“A huge mistake,” she replied, rising from her seat.

I stared at her, a little confused, my breath heavy.

“Don’t misunderstand me,” she said, her voice sharp. “I was meant to abduct him and unleash a horror on him, but my feelings got the better of me, and I ended up shooting him. That idiot didn’t even suffer, he didn’t even plead for mercy!” She threw the popcorn across the room and turned to face me, her eyes blazing.

“Don’t make the same error. There’s no satisfaction in it!”

I continued to stare, trying to grasp her twisted logic.

“Did your husband set you up too? Was he unfaithful?” I asked.

“He had a secret life, a wife and two daughters. When I discovered the truth, I drained his company dry, pocketed all the cash, then shot him, leaving his mistress and illegitimate children with nothing,” she said, a sinister smile creeping across her face.

My mouth fell open in shock.

“I even called the police on myself after I shot that fool. They found me standing over his body, sipping wine,” she said, her smile widening as she led the way out of the TV room.

I hurried to keep up with her.

“My dear friend, don’t repeat my mistakes. Use both your intellect and your emotions,” she advised. “You want the cheaters to know it was you, right?” She paused as we reached the cells.

I nodded eagerly. I wanted them to cry, I wanted their tears to dry up.

“Then killing them isn’t the solution,” she countered.

“What? But you said…”

“I changed my mind after hearing that mother’s speech,” she replied.

I hesitated, taken aback.

“Come on, I’m staying in your cell tonight. I assume you’re alone?”

“Yes, but can you really do that?”

“Samira, with enough money, jail can feel like a resort,” she said, leading the way. “I need to know everything about your life and how you ended up here,” she continued, guiding me to my cell.

I hesitated for a moment, but it seemed this woman had the potential to assist me.

Once inside my room, I told her all the horrors those people had inflicted upon me.

She listened intently, her expression shifting to one of disbelief.

For the first time, I noticed a flicker of emotion in her eyes as she cleared her throat and looked away.

“You shouldn’t have signed that divorce so readily, even if your uncle pressured you,” she remarked.

“I know, but how can I make them cry? How can I force them to beg for their lives?” I asked, desperation raced in my tone.

“You plan, you bide your time, take everything from them, and then make them kneel before you, begging,” she instructed.

“I don’t understand…”

“You take the money, Samira. Without it, they wouldn’t have dared to treat you this way,” she clarified. “I’ll help you, don’t worry. We’ll ensure they know it was you.”

“How?” I was still lost. “And why are you helping me? Do I owe you something? I have no money.”

She laughed lightly, “I’m helping because I’m bored and need something to occupy my time. Besides, I enjoy ruining lives,” she said with a grin. “But how patient are you?” she asked.

“Patient?”

“If you’re the one who has to take everything from them, you’ll need to serve your time first, then strike!” Her words shattered the flicker of excitement that had begun to grow within me.

Did she mean I had to endure my four year sentence first?

No, that was unacceptable.

Four years was an eternity, those monsters deserved their karma now.

Just as I was about to voice my objections, the lights went out, and she swiftly claimed the lower bunk, slipping her headphones into place.