My fiancé, New York real estate tycoon Ethan Thorne, was diagnosed with acute leukemia.

He needed a bone marrow transplant.

And I was his only perfect match.

I donated my marrow without a second thought.

The post-operative pain and weakness left me a wreck.

Late one night, I dragged myself out of bed to get him a glass of water.

His unlocked laptop glowed faintly on the desk.

A folder, titled "Revenge Plan."

I clicked on it.

The journal inside detailed his five-year-long plot for revenge.

Everything was for his ex-girlfriend, Scarlett, who was set to return from Europe.

Donating my marrow was the final step.

Ethan’s journal read: "Scarlett comes back next week. By then, I’ll finally be free of her."

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1

Trembling, I scrolled through the journal.

It detailed every one of the ninety-three cruel things he’d done to me.

He intended to give this journal to Scarlett as an "atonement gift."

The shock, combined with my post-operative weakness, sent my world spinning before my vision went black.

My knees buckled, and I crumpled to the floor.

The thud startled Ethan in the next room.

He rushed over, his face a mask of perfectly feigned panic and concern.

"Ava, what’s wrong? You've just had surgery!"

Before the nurses arrived, he gently helped me up, his voice a concerned rasp.

"You look like you're in a lot of pain. Take your medicine first."

He handed me a pill and water, his fingers gently brushing my lips, his eyes brimming with perfectly feigned heartache.

I held his gaze and swallowed the pill.

It was nothing but ordinary vitamins.

He had swapped out my powerful painkillers.

Minutes later, agony ripped through me again, my body spasming and arching off the bed.

The nurses rushed in and helped me back into bed.

The pain was too intense for sleep, so I just curled up under the covers, shaking.

Through the thin hospital door, I could clearly hear Ethan chuckling on the phone.

"Yeah, I switched her painkillers. She must be in so much pain she wishes she was dead."

On the other end of the line, I heard his friends cheering.

"Ethan, you're savage! This is way more satisfying than just killing her!"

I clutched the sheets, my knuckles turning bone-white.

I picked up my phone and dialed the number I hadn't called in years.

"Mom," my voice trembled, "I’ve had enough. I want to come home."

After two weeks at a private recovery center my mother had arranged, I’d finally regained some of my strength.

I returned to the penthouse apartment I shared with Ethan, ready to pack my things.

I was leaving for good.

However, the moment I opened the door, I walked in on a party.

Ethan was hosting a welcome-home party for Scarlett, who had returned early.

The music screeched to a halt. Everyone froze, staring at me.

My composure caught Ethan off guard.

He frowned, striding toward me.

"Ava, what are you doing here? I thought you were still at the recovery center."

Behind him, a girl in a white dress stepped out—Scarlett Vance.

Looking the very picture of angelic innocence, she looped her arm through Ethan’s.

She smiled at me with a practiced show of magnanimity.

"Ava, I moved past what happened between us a long time ago. You should stay and celebrate with us, alright?"

Ethan couldn't bear the sight of her feigned distress for even a second.

He grabbed my wrist, his tone harsh.

"Scarlett wants you to stay. So you'll stay."

He shoved me onto a sofa in the corner.

His friends immediately surrounded me, their eyes filled with derision.

"Ava, heard your latest design won some little award? Going to grace us with the details?"

One of them snatched my portfolio, sneering as he flipped it open.

"This is it? So childish."

The words were barely out of his mouth when another friend poured red wine all over my drawings.

The ink bled across the page, ruining months of hard work.

They roared with laughter.

I refused to give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

I just gazed calmly at the spreading stain, then rose to my feet, ready to leave.

My silence seemed to enrage them.

Malice glinted in Scarlett's eyes.

"Oh, is she getting a little hot under the collar? I think she needs to cool off."

She shot a meaningful look at the others.

They grinned, closing in on me.

Ice-cold panic shot through me.

They dragged me toward the rooftop terrace, my breath catching in my throat.

As a child, I had nearly drowned in a lake.

Water has been my deepest fear ever since.

No matter how I struggled, they dragged me relentlessly to the edge of the infinity pool.

They shoved me in.

The icy water swallowed me whole.

I screamed, choking and sputtering, desperately flailing toward the surface.

They just stood on the edge, laughing, savoring my frantic struggle.

"Cool off! You don't belong in our world!"

My vision began to blur, darkness creeping in at the edges.

Just as I was about to lose consciousness from the panic and lack of air—

"Stop! Are you all insane?!"

It was Ethan's voice.

Ethan hauled me out of the pool.

His soaked shirt clung to his muscular chest, water dripping from his sharp jawline.

But his concern wasn't for me.

"She just had surgery," he growled. "If something happens to her, we'll all be sued!"

His only concern was the legal liability.

His words made Scarlett's face darken.

She glared at him, her voice trembling with accusation.

"It's only been five years. Don't tell me your heart has changed already."

"Never." Ethan immediately soothed her, pulling her into his arms.

"You're the only one I've ever loved. Nothing will ever change that."

His friends started to hoot and cheer.

"Exactly! If it weren't for Ava, you and Scarlett would have been together ages ago!"

"Ethan, just get rid of her for good! Make her disappear forever!"

Someone suggested tampering with the yacht at his lake house to stage an accident.

"That'll scare her away for good."

A flicker of hesitation crossed Ethan's face.

But then Scarlett began to sob in his arms.

"Ethan, you saw how devastated I was when I lost that scholarship because of her. All I want is justice."

His expression softened.

He kissed away her tears, turning to his friends with a low, resolute voice.

"Fine. Let's do it."

Hiding behind the bedroom door, I heard their entire vicious plan unfold.

I pulled out my phone and sent a single text to my mother.

A few minutes later, Ethan strode into the bedroom.

He saw me drenched and curled up on the bed, and something unreadable—pity? guilt?—flashed in his eyes before vanishing.

He leaned down, offering a hollow apology.

"Ava, I'm sorry. They were just messing around."

He caressed my cheek, his tone as gentle as poison.

"How about I take you to the lake house tomorrow to relax?"

The trap was set.

My heart felt like a block of ice, but I managed a small nod.

"Okay."

The next morning, he handed me the keys to the tampered yacht.

I had to ask him one last time.

"Ethan, if you could do it all over again… would you still choose me?"

A strange look flickered in his eyes, but it was quickly masked by a gentle smile.

He ruffled my hair.

"Don't overthink it. You're the only one for me."

I watched his retreating back, a faint smile touching my lips.

That was his last chance.

I walked toward the yacht waiting for me—the one that was supposed to be my tomb.