Chapter 3

Priscilla's POV

The cold, sticky red wine dripped from the ends of my hair onto the carpet.

Daphne took a step closer with the empty glass, a cruel smirk curling on her lips. "Did you think today was some spontaneous accident? Don't be stupid, Priscilla. Gabriel and Florence got together five years ago."

She stared into my eyes, her tone full of sick pride. "Remember that 'Miami Executive Retreat' three years ago? We were on the beach drinking champagne, celebrating their wedding vows. You thought we went out of our way to buy you that limited-edition bag—turns out, we just picked it up as a souvenir for Florence and gave you the spare."

My breathing stopped for a second.

"And that little drama on the plane a month ago," Daphne continued. "Did you really think that was a coincidence? Gabriel orchestrated the whole thing."

I looked at Daphne, then at Nathaniel, who was watching with cold indifference.

Just two months ago, when Gabriel and I had a cold war over wedding dresses, Daphne was on the phone defending me, threatening to key his Porsche. At the family BBQ last year, Nathaniel punched Gabriel in the face for forgetting my birthday.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

No screaming. No tears. When an obsession is entirely pulverized, all that’s left is terrifying, dead calm.

"Consider the last seven years fed to the dogs," I opened my eyes, my cold gaze sweeping across their faces before landing on Gabriel’s tense jaw. "You don't have to scheme anymore. I'm done playing this twisted game."

I turned around and walked straight up the stairs to the second floor.

I had picked out this bridal house myself. Just a month ago, Gabriel was discussing what furniture to buy for the master bedroom with me.

I pushed open the door.

The walk-in closet was filled with Florence’s couture gowns. The vanity was covered in her skincare products. This "home" I had been looking forward to had long been completely claimed by another woman.

Gabriel rushed in, his eyes bloodshot. "Priscilla, just listen to me!"

"Get away from me."

"I won't let you leave!" He grabbed my wrist, gripping it so hard I thought the bone would snap.

I yanked my hand back and slapped him across the face with everything I had.

His head whipped to the side, a red handprint instantly blooming on his cheek. That slap exhausted all my resentment and broke his lingering aggression.

Gabriel didn't fight back. His knees gave out, and his tall frame collapsed directly in front of me. He hugged my legs, his voice trembling. "I'm sorry... Priss, I'm so sorry. Seven years together, you can't just throw it all away!"

"You've been married to her for four years, and now you have the nerve to talk to me about our seven years?"

"I had no choice!" He clutched his head in agony. "Florence has severe clinical depression. You have no idea how terrifying her episodes are—if I leave, she'll self-harm, she'll die. I can't just watch her die!"

He looked up, his eyes filled with a truly delusional hope. "But you're different, Priscilla. You're independent, you're strong, you don't need anyone to take care of you. Can't we just keep things the way they are? You'll still be my wife. As long as you can accept this, my heart will always belong to you."

I looked at this man, my stomach churning with disgust.

Before I could speak, a horrific scream echoed from the hallway.

The bedroom door was kicked open. Daphne rushed in, pointing at me and screaming at the top of her lungs, "You evil bitch! You pushed Elias into the pool when no one was watching!"

"Are you insane? I don't even know who Elias is!"

Gabriel didn't hear a word. Hearing "son in the water," whatever lingering warmth was in his eyes instantly evaporated, replaced by bloodthirsty rage. He lunged like a wild beast, wrapped his hands around my throat, and pinned me brutally against the wall.

Suffocation hit me instantly.

"He's only four! If you have a problem, take it out on me! Why target my son?!" he roared, his face twisted in pure hate. "If anything happens to Elias, I will kill you!"

"I... didn't..." I desperately clawed at his fingers, forcing the words out.

Nathaniel stormed in, casting a freezing look at me. His voice was colder than a judge passing a death sentence. "Attempted murder. Priscilla, I will use every legal resource I have to ensure you rot in prison for the rest of your life."

Gabriel hurled me viciously onto the floor, turned, and bolted out of the room.

Before I could even try to crawl up, Daphne stepped forward and kicked me hard in the stomach. A sharp, piercing agony shot through my limbs. My vision went dark. She then grabbed my hair, slapped me twice, and furiously clicked away in her heels.

From downstairs, I could hear shouts, the splash of people jumping into the water, and Florence’s agonizing wails.

Inside the master bedroom, it was dead silent.

I curled up on the rug. The agonizing cramps in my abdomen didn't fade; instead, it felt like something was being violently ripped apart inside me. A wave of warm, thick, coppery liquid gushed between my legs, rapidly staining the white wool carpet a horrific crimson.