Sereia just stared at the man whose face look utterly surprised by her statement, as if asking how did she find out.
How ridiculous.
"Do your worse, Winston. But you will never get a single dime." She smirked.
"Sereia Atkins!"
She would rather throw all the money she made on bitcoin into a useless meme coin and watch it turn to digital ashes than let him spend it on his whore's family and live like he hadn't done anything wrong!
"Stop calling my name with your filthy mouth! You don't deserve me!" She roared and it felt so damn crushing to burst like she had just stopped weighing on her emotions.
It was the first time she shouted at him that even Winston momentarily stop and think if it was really the woman who only knew how to catee to his needs like a stupid vendo machine.
Sereia exhaled deeply to calm her nerves. She was already bleeding she didn't want to look weak and unnerved by him. If she's going to meet her end today, she would never give him the satisfaction of seeing her break.
"But if you really want my money..."
She swept her eyes across the room and her chilling gaze finally made Lara Martin, standing behind Winston silent as a mouse waiting to claim her morsels, flinch.
The sophisticated heiress—eighteen, pampered since birth, beloved by one of the most powerful families in the capital—clung to Winston's tailored suit like a frightened child.
Compared to Sereia's lowly paycheck and quiet life in the suburbs, Lara was everything Sereia wasn't: privileged, sheltered, dangerously naive.
And disastrously in love.
She had fallen for Winston's mask the moment she entered her father's company as an intern.
There he was.
A handsome gentleman. A protector when she was bullied for being a parachute. And above all, he was a self-driven person, undoubtedly with a high success rate. He perfectly landed a job on their company after graduation!
In her smitten eyes, Vincent was dreamy. She lacked the decisivene nature even when knowing the man's ambitions.
By the next breath, he had her in his bed.
By the next heartbeat, they were plotting Sereia's removal.
Earlier today, they had even gone to meet her family to introduce Winston properly.
Fourteen billion dollars in stocks made any man acceptable—especially to her ruthless father. Even a widower would be welcome if he brought such a fortune into their bloodline.
Lara's fingers drifted instinctively to her still-flat belly.
Her eyes hardened. Venomous.
She needed that money.
She needed Winston.
Sereia raised her head and spat out blood.
"If you want to know... Why don't you ask the devil himself when you get to hell?" she rasped and then chuckled like she was having fun toying with his emotions.
That was the spark.
Winston snapped.
"Fuck, I'll kill you!"
With a snarl, he grabbed her by the hair and slammed her head into the computer screen.
CRACK.
CRACK.
CRASH.
The sound was horrifyingly deafening.
Watching everything unfold from the corner, Lara screamed as Sereia's body crumpled like a discarded doll, blood pooling around her.
She hesitated only a moment before inching closer and nudging Sereia's leg with her heel.
"I-I think she's dead… oh God she's… really dead..." the young lady shouted with urgency but lacking conviction.
Then her fear twisted into a bright, triumphant smile.
"Oh gosh! Baby, you did it! She's gone! Once we give Dad the money he'll take care of the rest and we'll finally—"
Bang.
Her voice cut off into a shrill, agonized scream.
Blood sprayed the wall behind her.
"Hon... Honey…? Ugh, why…?" she whimpered, staring at Winston with betrayal and confusion.
But the man she loved was gone.
All she saw was an evil person. A monster stood in his place—wild-eyed, trembling, splattered with the blood of two women.
"Stupid bitch! Do you even have a working brain, huh?!" he bellowed angrily as everything dawned on him. "My money is gone! All gone! That bitch probably exchanged everything on a useless coin and burn my money to nothing!"
Shit.
"Do you think that greedy bastard of a father of yours will still help me after knowing I've lost everything?!"
He clutched his hair, pacing in delirious circles.
"He'll rat me out the moment he gets caught a whiff of this! He'll throw me in prison before anything else!" he howled.
If anything, that old geezer would probably file a r*pe case against him and make sure he rots in hell for taking advantage of his naive daughter.
"Damn it, argh!" Winston let out another series of curses then he kicked Sereia's body—over and over—screaming her name as if she could still answer.
Bones cracked. Flesh gave way.
Lara's frail figure was in no better condition either. Her head was smashed and her head war cut, bleeding nonstop.
And yet… she clung to a sliver of consciousness.
A thin, agonizing sliver.
Enough to witness the horror that followed.
Then suddenly, Winston stopped—slowly—when his gaze drifted to Lara, making her jolt I'm trepidation.
She was trembling, still alive, still breathing, but to him she was no longer useful.
But more of an unwanted liability that he must discard as soon as possible
"W-What do you want? No… no, please honey!" she cried and tried to crawl away but she was too weak to move and escape.
"Winston, I love you! I won't tell anyone, Dad will help you! I swear—our baby—!"
"Sshhhh," he crooned, gripping her by the hair.
"I know you love me. Of course you do and I love you too and our baby..."
As he mentioned those words, his tone became audibly gentler. Even the painful grip on her hair loosened.
"H-Honey..." she choked.
Hope flickered in her eyes and she felt the knot on her chest became loosely tangled.
Yet before she could heave a sigh and relieve wash over her wounded existence, a sharp pain pierce her withering frame with the bitter reality.
Her hope instantly turned to dread.
"Ah!"
Lara shrieked agonizingly. She wriggled like a writhing worm as the knife sank into her abdomen.
Again.
And again.
Ànd again...
Like a steady rhythm of gore and betrayal, claiming her last breath.
Hot blood drenched her white dress.
Thereafter, her whimpers died and the last thing she saw inches before her face were the cold dead eyes of the woman whom she tried plot to die.
They were eerily opened as though they were mocking her for getting her karma on time.
All the more, she felt remorseful greatly reduced as the accomplice.
During her last breath, she felt so much pity towards Sereia and herself for loving Vincent.
Lara was deeply regretting falling for this monster who wouldn't even spare his own child.
Her child... Her poor innocent child.
Forgive mommy for being your mom, Xiao Bao. Mommy is a bad person.
She wept like a child, without a sound she could mister with her fading strength until her tears become blood itself.
Xiao Bao, if there's a next life... If there's really a merciful God out there... who would grant another life...
Her breathing hitched as she prayed solemnly from her heart. Not for herself but for the child who couldn't see the world because of her sins and recklessness.
Please let my unborn child meet a proper parent the will love him. Please... I'm... begging...
Meanwhile, the man swept his cold sinister eyes across the carnage he made without an inch of emotional attachment neither for both women.
"Even my wife would always say she loved me," Winston said while eerily calm. "And I told her I loved her more. Look how that turned out."
He wiped the blade on her corpse and set their small apartment on fire.
"I only trust dead people."
---
"Sera, you crazy wench! Come out! I know you're there!"
The shriek jolted her awake.
Her head throbbed, splitting pain blooming behind her eyes.
Her lungs burned. Her fingers twitched.
Wait… wasn't she supposed to be dead?
Why could she still feel?
And...
Why could she hear someone else's voice?
A nasal, piercing, more irritating than a frog croaking in the dead of night when it's not even raining?
She stared at the place and frowned. It looks more of a cow shed than a proper house.
Is this a dream?
She stared at her fair hands... Too fair that it would be best to describe it sickly pale as if she hasn't seen the sun for a long time.
There was no longer a trace of blood on her body nor her wounds burn but there was a strained sensation on her muscles everytime she moves an inch.
She only moved slightly to sit upwards from lying down!
What's happening? This is definitely not her body. Not her house but fortunately, there was no Winston to mess her up.
Before she could ponder further, a sudden kick burst the wooden door open, smashing the already rotting wood into pieces.
Then came a barrage of insults and croaking words she failed to fathom.
"Sera! You malicious whore!"
"I knew you're feigning death. You killed your husband and pretends to mourn and not eat till you drop dead. It's been a month and you're still breathing. Today must pay with your life for killing my brother!"
"Rib... ribbit...?" Sereia blinked and unwittingly repeated.
Err... Why is this person mimicking a croaking frog?