5

"How am I interfering in your life?" 

"Your marriage to Ethan is a thorn in my side. So, let's cut to the chase, shall we? Ask for a divorce and vanish from his life," she replies.

"Why on earth would I do that?" I counter, my hands clenching into fists at my sides.

"So he can finally be with the woman he desires. Me," she sneers, her smirk infuriating as she steps closer, invading my space.

"If Ethan truly desired you, he would have ditched me. 3 years ago, he would have asked for your hand" 

"Is that what you believe?" she taunts, her gaze piercing as she closes the distance between us. "Is that why you turn a blind eye when I slip into his bed? Or wear his damn clothes?" Her smirk widens, a challenge in her eyes. "You know, Ethan even invited me to jet off with him next week. Picture this, baby, the two of us sipping wine in Italy for 15 glorious days," she continues, her words like daggers aimed at my heart. "Just like old times."

"So it seems you've already got what you want. He's all yours," I retort, my voice cold as ice.

As I look at Mariah, a wave of disgust washes over me. Despite her stunning appearance, there's something hollow about her beauty, something that feels manufactured and insincere. Every movement she makes feels calculated, every word she speaks tinged with underlying motives. It's as if she's wearing a mask.

"Exactly," she says, her tone triumphant as she takes another step forward, her confidence unwavering. "So do us all a favor and file for divorce, making way for my rightful place by Ethan's side. I may warm his bed, but I deserve to bear his name."

"If it were solely up to me, you'd never lay claim to that."

With a menacing sneer curling her lips, Mariah leans in closer, her eyes gleaming with a calculated malice that sends a shiver down my spine. "Since you won't play," she hisses, each word dripping with venomous intent, "I will have to play dirty."

Her threat hangs heavy in the air as she strides towards the door, her movements deliberate and purposeful. With a swift motion, she grasps the doorknob, her fingers curling around it with a predatory grip. 

I watch, frozen in disbelief, as she pulls the door shut with a forceful slam that reverberates through the room. The sound echoes in my ears. 

"Don't take this the wrong way, Blair," her voice cuts through the silence like a blade, "but tonight will be the turning point in Ethan's decision."

As the latch clicks into place, sealing her intentions, a sinking feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. 

I am trapped!

I run to the door and start knocking, the sound echoing down the empty hallway like a frantic drumbeat of desperation. "Help! Somebody, please!" 

With trembling hands, I frantically search for my phone, panic rising in my chest like a tide of dread. But as I realize it's just out of reach, left behind in the kitchen, a surge of despair washes over me.

"Damn it!" I cry out.

I can't miss Ethan's birthday, not after everything we've been through. Not when we were so close to rekindling the spark between us just a few minutes ago!

I felt like he was so close to giving in and forgiving me. Damn.

My heart pounds frantically in my chest as I feel something wet and sticky between my legs. With trembling hands, I reach down, my fingers coming away slick with crimson, the metallic scent of blood filling the air.

God, why am I bleeding?

Horror washes over me as I realize what's happening, and I feel bile rise in my throat, threatening to choke me. The blood continues to flow, staining the pristine floor beneath me in dark, ominous streaks, a stark contrast against the polished surface.

My breath comes in ragged gasps. "Oh my god," I gasp, my voice trembling with shock and disbelief. "What's happening?"

The metallic tang of blood fills the air, mingling with the acrid scent of fear that clings to my skin. I stagger backward, my movements clumsy and uncoordinated.

"Jena!" I call out, my voice wavering with urgency. "Help me, please!"

But there's no response, only the eerie silence that seems to suffocate the room. Panic claws at my throat, threatening to choke me as I realize I am alone.

More blood trickles down my legs, the crimson hue stark against the pristine white. 

I clutch at the doorframe for support, my fingers trembling as they graze the cold surface, seeking solace in its solidity.

"Please, someone help me!" My words echo back at me, hollow and empty, mocking my futile attempts to break free.

Tears blur my vision, mingling with the blood that stains my dress, a grotesque tableau of suffering and despair.

Weakness overtakes me, draining my strength until I can no longer stand. With a gasp, I collapse to the floor, my body trembling as waves of pain and nausea wash over me. 

The cold tiles press against my cheek. Every breath feels like a struggle, each inhalation labored and shallow.  

My fingers claw at the ground, searching for purchase, but find only cold, unyielding tile beneath them.

"Help... please," I mMariahge to choke out, my voice barely a whisper against the overwhelming silence of the room. 

And then, as the door creaks open and Jena's concerned face appears, a mixture of relief and terror floods my senses.

"Mrs. Banks!" Jena's voice is tinged with alarm, her eyes wide with worry.

But even as I reach out for her, darkness encroaches upon my vision, swallowing me whole in its suffocating embrace.

**

Seated in the dimly lit living room, I take a sip of the fragrant tea that Jena meticulously prepared, the warmth offering a fleeting comfort in the midst of the brewing storm.

Ding.

The sound echoes through the silent penthouse as the elevator reaches its destination, signaling an arrival in the dead of night. With a jolt, I rise from my seat, my heart pounding with apprehension, my mind still reeling from the events that unfolded earlier.

Stepping out of the elevator, a figure emerges from the shadows, and my stomach knots with dread as I recognize Mariah's smug expression.

"You missed out on tonight. It was amazing," she taunts.