Gina's POV
Ethan laughed, his tone dripping with mockery.
"Trust me, I'd love to help. After all, it's thanks to you that I finally have the woman I love by my side. But… I don't have any money right now."
"Please," I begged, my voice cracking. "I'll do anything. My mother is all I have left—she can't die."
I hated him for what he'd done to me, but none of that mattered anymore. Saving my mother was all that mattered.
Ethan's eyes held not a shred of sympathy. "I'll help you," he said, his voice low and cold, "if you record a video admitting that you stole Emily's work."
I stared at him, speechless. "Does it even matter anymore? You've already erased every piece of evidence."
He shrugged. "We both know the truth, Gina. The rest of the world doesn't. So, what will it be—your mother's life, or a five-minute confession?"
His gaze was sharp and cruel, like a blade slicing through the last of my pride.
I realized, too late, that I had never truly known this man. The person I loved for three years was nothing but a stranger wearing a smile.
"Did you ever love me?" The question slipped out before I could stop it. It was foolish, but I needed to hear it from him.
Ethan's lips curled into a cruel smile. He stepped closer, and I instinctively took a step back.
"I never loved you," he said softly, almost with pride. "It's always been Emily. She's beautiful, kind… perfect. But she never looked at me. You, on the other hand—she's always been jealous of you. So I thought I'd use that. I knew if I was with you, she'd want me too. And I was right."
He smirked. "Emily's too pure to get her hands dirty, so I did the dirty work for her."
His words hit harder than any slap. The ground felt like it was tilting beneath me. What a fool I'd been.
I turned away, my legs trembling. I couldn't stand another second listening to his twisted truth.
"If you walk away now," Ethan called after me, "the offer's off the table."
I stopped and looked over my shoulder. "Follow me to the hospital to make the payment first," I said. "Then I'll do as you asked."
I knew better than to trust him blindly again.
Ethan smirked and tossed something at me. I caught it—a sleek black card.
"There's at least half a million in there," he said casually. "That should cover it."
I hesitated. "How do I know it's not empty?"
He gestured to one of the guards. The man brought out a portable scanner. My heart raced as the balance flashed on the small screen—520,000. Enough. More than enough to save my mother.
My chest tightened with shame, but I nodded.
I recorded the video—each word felt like a knife carving into my throat. When it was done, I sent it to Ethan and left without another word.
It was late. No cab would stop in this part of town, so I started walking toward the bus stop. The cold night wind bit through my thin jacket, but I clutched the card tightly, drawing strength from the thought that soon… my mother would live.
The streetlights flickered as I reached the road. A bus was pulling up on the other side.
I broke into a run.
Maybe I was too focused on catching it. Maybe I didn't see the car speeding from the corner.
All I heard was the screech of tires—
and then, everything went black.