That evening, my father called me. “The first stage is completed. Do you really want to clear it all? Drake will lose everything.”

I recalled how desperately Drake tried to revive his business, with sweat and sleepless nights. Nothing worked. Investors didn't budge.

I was the supportive partner on the surface, but behind closed doors I pulled strings. I sold my shares worth billions and pumped it into Drake's falling business with a fake name. Investors poured in, desperate for a piece. My father almost died of heartbreak when he heard it; and I was excommunicated from the family.

Now, after Drake had become a multi billionaire, I was pushed off the ship.

If I pulled my investments now, Drake would collapse into abject poverty and public disgrace.

I replied coldly: “Dad, if he has somewhere to fall back to, then nothing was done.”

That night, Drake called me for the first time in months to ask if I had had dinner.

I ignored him and let the call run.

He sighed. “I haven't submitted this letter you signed to the board members. Sandra begged me not to, she just wants peace. So this is another chance.”

Before he was done talking, I ended the call.

Another chance, my foot.

I called the Police. “The investigation has taken too long.”

“We were going to call you tomorrow, ma’am,” the Sheriff said. “There has been a new development. You're invited to the office tomorrow morning. Drake will be there too.”

I smiled. Perfect.

With one call, I booked eighty percent of the city press. Live TVs, thousands of social media accounts ready to stream. His business partners would be glued to their screens, pen in hand. They couldn't risk anything again. The whole world would watch Drake and her slut lover being humiliated.

I would make them pay for the blood of my innocent daughter who never believed the world could be so cruel. My daughter had hoped “Aunty Sandy” would reach out and pull her up. She dreaded water. She was hospitalized one time because water entered her nostrils.

Sandra knew all these.

Yet she watched her fight for her life. Her young arms flapping desperately, her small nostrils getting clogged by the unforgiving depth.

Now they want me to withdraw the case like nothing happened? They would have a taste of why I was called the Undercover Gun by my father's cabal.

The next day, I was at the Police Station. The press were waiting already. So were Drake and Sandra. But instead of being investigated suspects, they were sipping cocktails.

Something felt wrong.

The sheriff welcomed me and I sat across from them. They were hurdled together like inseparable twins. I saw affection in Drake's eyes each time Sandra breathed. Something I hadn't seen in years done for me.

But none of it mattered now.

“You still won't forgive me over a small mistake?” Sandra whispered, wiping at fake tears. “I said I'm sorry.”

“Just let this go, Elena. This unnecessary drama won't bring the girl back,” Drake said, his eyes full of entitlement and impatience.

I turned away.

Drake rubbed her shoulder. “I never knew Elena could be this cruel. I'm glad Ava died; it's better than being raised by her.”

Pain hit my chest like a freight train. My heart twisted with unexplainable agony. You are glad your daughter died.

I adjusted my shades. “Sheriff, she should be in cuffs now. Isn't the evidence clear enough?”

He nodded but began to head towards me with the cuffs. Before my very eyes, I was handcuffed.

The whole world stood still. Even the cameras went silent. Sandra giggled in triumph as Drake held her close.

“What's the meaning of this?” I snapped at the officer.

“Mrs Elena Hallwood, you are under arrest for the malicious murder of Miss Ava Hallwood, the only heiress of Hallwood.”

The sheriff produced the paper I signed last evening. “There it is, you admitted every word of it. I never knew you had such a black heart.”

My eyes bled when I saw the actual content of the paper. It wasn't a sack letter; it was an affidavit claiming I killed my daughter, because I wanted Drake's attention and sought to set Sandra up.

My tongue dried up, my heart shattered and I couldn't believe my eyes.

Drake raised his phone. “I have it all on record. She signed the paper and asked if there was more to sign! This bitch doesn't feel a single remorse that she murdered my precious daughter!”

He began to swipe through his phone, showing the heartfelt pictures he took with little Ava. From the day she was born till her birthday.

As he did this, tears ran down his eyes. “You didn't stop there. You cooked up a story, forged a clip and piled it all on Sandra, who was not even in the country at that time!”

Sandra let out a loud cry and he instinctively took her in his shoulder. He held her like a delicate egg, shooting me a deadly glare.

The cameras went crazy. Murmurs rose. The live streams notifications bubbled.

I sat there, speechless, in chains.

Killing my daughter wasn't enough; they were making a blockbuster out of it.

The sheriff pulled me up. “No lawyer can save you from this mess. Drake is more powerful than the president.”

“Killing her daughter because she wants attention? I've always known she's a lunatic,” someone said from the crowd.

“What do you expect from a woman who is rumored to be an excon, suddenly wanting to be a loving wife and mother? A pig’s always a pig.”

“I'm happy Drake was smart enough to expose her.”

“I can't imagine how Sandra feels. She loved the girl so much.”

I tried to stay calm but the more words I heard, the more I lost every reason to fight. How would the whole city suddenly believe a signed paper over a clear video clip?

How could they agree that I drowned my own daughter?

Drake stood proudly. “I warned her severally to withdraw the case. I was trying to cover up for her. Now I'm sorry this has slipped out of my power.”

I turned to the Sheriff and spoke calmly. “I will call my lawyer now.”

Sandra spat at me. “You still want a lawyer? You will rot in jail, you unremorseful murderer!”

Drake's eyes went cold. “Any lawyer who agrees to defend you will be jailed too. Try me.”

I tried to remain calm, maybe all this cruelty was a nightmare.

This couldn't be the same man who laughed so hard when our daughter said her first word: “Dada.”

Now here he was, passionately defending her murderer.

I stared at them. If only they knew what was coming to them…

Drake told the sheriff to lock me up, “as law demands”.

My cellphone was seized, my bank cards frozen, I was stripped down to my panties and thrown into a cold, damp prison.

I didn't shout, didn't beg. I just absorbed the entire cruelty even though I was losing it inside.

The media went crazy with the news that I killed Ava.

Drake went in front of cameras, shedding tears about how much he cherished his daughter.

“If not for my investigative prowess, I would have blamed the wrong woman. Elena acted so calm from the outside. I may not recover from this in a long time.”

Sandra wept like a baby too. She presented a small baby cloth.

“I made this with my hands for my niece. I… I don't even know what to do with it now.”

Her cries touched every heart that heard them. Drake took her in his arms, shielding her from the cameras.

The curses and hate on me were unimaginable and endless. No one cared to know the truth.

I was in the prison for three days, eating and drinking nothing.

Each day, a cop would drag me out and press hot metals on my skin, persuading me to withdraw the case from court.

I wept until I lost my voice. I begged to speak to Drake but the officers said he was very busy.

They also claimed he wasn't behind these “persuasion measures”.

“If I were you, I would lay low, accept my punishment and withdraw that case,” the sheriff repeatedly said.

Finally, when I was at the verge of death, I remembered my hopeful father and my brother in critical condition.

Then I whispered I wanted to withdraw.

The next minute, Drake arrived. He wasn't busy anymore.

He stood very far and held a scarf over his nostrils.

Sandra was perched beside him, his right hand shielding her from…me.

“Are you sure you can stand this? It's pretty… disgusting,” he said.

Sandra shrugged.

“She's my cousin. Even though the whole world has seen her for who she is, I would still care for her.”

Drake looked at her with admiration.

“I've never had a woman as kind as you are. Even at the risk of losing your child from the bad stench, you still chose family. It's just so bad I'm married and loyal to… her.”

I laughed through broken lips. If this was what marriage and loyalty meant, then it was better being married to the devil himself.

His eyes turned cold when they fell on me.

“I've been sending food and medications to you, why aren't you using them?”

I had checked the “drugs”, they were expired for several months, and the foods were bought from street sellers.

He shook his head and brought out court documents. Then he smiled.

“I learned you've made the right decision. Now sign this and make a video that you lied against Sandra all this time.”

I closed my eyes and remembered the incessant torture every night, the hunger, the stench. I recalled my sick brother, he was in cancer grade 4, and only the facility in Drake's hospital could treat him.

So, with tears streaming down my face, I signed. Then I made the video, denouncing that Sandra was the culprit.

Drake deleted it multiple times saying I wasn't convincing enough. He made me beg for Sandra's mercy, like a street dog begging for crumbs.

Then Sandra walked into the shot and hugged me.

“I forgive you,” she said.

Then leaned in to whisper, “What do you think I should call my baby? Maybe Ava?”

I almost tore her apart.

Drake, satisfied, took her back to his side. “Now that you've officially admitted to the murder, I'm sure you know the legal implications. I'll have my lawyers sue you.”

Something shattered in me.

So after all these… he wanted to sue me?

“Drake…” I tried to speak.

Sandra interrupted. “Cousin, look, Drake here has suffered greatly from your actions and stubbornness. His business is starting to crack. Yet he finds time to care for you.

“Even his influence cannot affect this. I'll beg on your behalf for a lighter sentence.”

Drake sighed and touched my face. This touch, which I once melted into, was now like hot iron pressed to my chin.

“You can come home tomorrow morning. I'll have a nurse look at you. They're pretty busy in the hospital so don't waste her time.”

Sandra hugged him. “You're just too kind.”

He poked her playfully. “I need your child to be born in a positive environment, full of love and care.”

Their words of hypocrisy dug excruciating holes inside me, leaving me gasping.

As they left, Sandra looked over her shoulder, her eyes full of mockery and triumph.

The next morning, I was released.

I walked out and there was no car from Drake. I flagged a cab only to discover my cards had been blocked.

I called Drake about my cards.

“Sandra needed all the money for her antenatal drugs. See this as compensation.”

“I need a fucking cab, Drake!” I snapped but the line had gone cold.

The cab driver was kind and brought me home.

I could barely walk with the bruises covering my skin, but I dragged myself through the mansion gates.

Drake stood at the front door, disgust on his face. “How did you pay the cab driver?”

Before I could speak, he slapped my face. Drake had never raised his hand on me.

“After all I do for you, you still whore around with cab drivers! You should have walked home rather than pay with sex!”

I wanted to cry, wanted to fall and weep so loudly.

But what would it solve? Just a few more days and Drake would beg me on his knees.

The nurse arrived an hour later.

Drake hovered around her.

“Are you not done yet? Your services are needed at the hospital!” he snapped every two minutes.

“Sir, her condition is critical. She needs to be admitted,” the nurse begged.

Drake scoffed. “I know my wife. She's strong. If she can't stand bruises, what would she do when she's in jail?”

So I was left with incomplete procedures. The spirits seared my wounds. The bandages were loose.

I kept whimpering and asking for painkillers.

But none of this compared to the agony in my soul.

Later, Drake left with Sandra for her antenatal checkup.

An hour later, I forced myself out and went to the hospital to see my brother.

I made his favorite porridge and imagined his smile when he would see me. I'd wipe his tears and make sure he didn't know what I had gone through.

When I reached his ward, I froze.

It was empty and sealed.

A doctor immediately took me aside.

“Last night there was a power malfunction in your brother's ward. He suffocated to death. I'm sorry.”

My knees buckled. The flask shattered. I slammed against the marble, my eyes blank, staring into space.

For 20 years, this hospital had never had a power malfunction, not for one second.

Why now?

Why only my brother's ward?

Why last night after I had signed the case withdrawal?

It was clear as daylight.

Drake wanted to break me so badly that I would fall and beg for his mercy.

He knew he had killed my brother, yet he made me withdraw the only case I had against him and Sandra.

As I sat there crumpled against the wall, the images of my brother flashing across my mind, the doctor touched my shoulder.

“Whatever problem you have with Drake, solve it quickly. You cannot stand him.”

Later that day, after seeing his corpse and scheduling a funeral, I drove back home.

The house was quiet and cold, just like my heart.

I staggered to the bedroom door only to hear intimate sounds from it.

Sandra's voice rang out, reeking with bliss.

“Even in my pregnancy you still find me attractive?” she moaned.

I immediately pulled my phone to record.

Drake's sweaty growl made me shiver with rage.

“Don't ruin this moment. I never loved Elena,” he said. “I only kept her close because she somehow made my life easier.”

“How would she feel if she discovers we've been having sex for a long time? The night I drowned Ava, you fucked me so hard I felt proud.”

Her laughter tore a large shred of my heart. I almost collapsed with pain.

“Ava was the only thing she used to hold me down. Good thing you got rid of her.”

“Why not just divorce her already?” Sandra moaned.

“Soon, baby. Once she's thrown into jail, no one will blame me for marrying you. But I need to keep her as an option.”

I immediately sent the clip to my father.

His call came in seconds.

I explained everything that had happened to him. He was furious that I'd kept this from him.

He broke down when he heard my brother was dead.

My brother, in order to support my marriage with Drake, had fallen out with my father.

Now he had been killed by the same man he lost his family for.

I sniffed as more tears poured down.

“Dad, I want Drake so ruined that there's nothing to fall back on. Destroy the very air he breathes!”

Just then, the door burst open. Drake was sweating.

“How long have you been here?”

I wiped at the tears. “Just came up.”

Sandra appeared behind him. A flicker of guilt flashed across his eyes.

“Sandra complained of back pain due to the pregnancy. So I gave her a massage.”

“Sure,” I said.

They expected a reaction from me. An outburst of jealousy.

When they got none, Sandra suddenly began to cry:

“I understand that you're angry, Elena, but please don't blame Drake. He's just been kind to me since my boyfriend left me.

“I can go if you want me to. Please blame me, not him.”

Drake rushed to hold her. His eyes darted to me, fierce and impatient.

“Your presence always ruins things for everyone! How long will you be jealous and unreasonable?”

I stared deep into his eyes.

“You killed my brother, Drake.”

His eyes stopped.

I didn't speak from pain or helplessness. It was something he had never seen before.

My fingers twitched with muscle memory of handling high-end guns.

“He became enemies with our father because of you,” I said. “He pulled every string to make you who you are. Yet you unplugged his life support.”

I wasn't done talking when Sandra walked up to me and slapped me hard.

“Because you're hurt shouldn't make you accuse an innocent man. He has kept your useless brother alive for months even though he's worse than dead vegetables. Well I pulled the plug myself!”

I couldn't hold it.

I struck her so hard she slammed against the wall.

Drake wasted no time.

He kicked me in the stomach, sending me hauling down the stairs. The sharp tiles of each step pierced my skin and broke my bone as I fell.

My world went dark.

He rushed after me, not to pick me up or check my pulse.

He began to stomp down on my belly and chest. Each stomp came with a word:

“Your brother was already worse than dead, Sandra only did him a favor. Yet you hit her!

“What if she loses her pregnancy? Are you doing this because you couldn't raise a child yourself?”

He didn't need to hit me again.

I screamed till my voice cracked.

In just a few days I had lost two of the most precious people in my life.

All for a man who we sacrificed everything for.

“Drake,” I whispered, “you'll pay dearly for this…”

Seeing the sheer damage he had done, he panicked and rushed me to the hospital.

“She can't die like this. If she wants to die, she has to be in prison first. So I don't take the blame.”

He warned the doctors. “Do everything to keep her alive. The police will come for her arrest. They must meet a strong Elena.”

I was in-between death and life as these words droned in my ear. They would be one of a thousand reasons I won't forgive Drake.

Just then Sandra walked in. Our eyes met and I saw a deadly smile on her lips.

She suddenly screamed and fell.

Drake ran to her and without hesitation ordered the doctors to let me go.

He touched her over.

“She looks pale. She needs blood.”

His eyes fell on me. Guilt flickered in them.

But when Sandra moaned again, every guilt vanished.

“Draw blood from Elena. Sandra can't lose the baby.”

This time the doctors stopped.

“Elena is at the point of death, lost so much blood, yet you want the little she has left taken from her?”

“Is she complaining?” Drake fired back. “I know my wife. She'll sacrifice anything to save her cousin.”

I wanted to protest but I had lost control of my body. I lost it long ago, the day I allowed myself to fall in love with a monster.

I laid there, helpless and dying.

The doctor, the same who saw my deep sorrow when I saw my dead brother, came up with another reason.

“They're not a match, sir. We can't do it now.”

Drake looked like he'd die. “Draw out the blood first and check later. Look! Is Elena refusing?”

“She can't even move, sir!”

“If anything happens to Sandra, this entire hospital will be shut down and every single person here jailed.”

The finality in his tone was horrifying.

“Sir, what about your wife? Don't you care about her?”

His gaze shifted to me, cold and resolute. “She has never complained before. She won't now. Take the blood.”