Cursed to be with a billionaire

Episode.3

: Echoes of Betrayal

Janice’s breath hitched as she sat on her narrow cot, the glowing rune on her wrist casting a silver sheen across her cramped maid’s quarters. Its delicate, swirling lines pulsed like a heartbeat, each throb pulling her deeper into a mystery she didn’t ask for. The whispers from last night, bound by blood, broken by love, lingered, chilling her spine. She closed her eyes, and the rune flared, flooding her with emotions that weren’t hers. Anger. Desire. Guilt. Stephen’s face flashed in her mind, his green eyes haunted as he stood in his study, clutching the pendant, whispering her name alongside Cynthia’s.

She gasped, yanking her sleeve down, her heart racing. “This isn’t just a mark,” she murmured, fear twisting with curiosity. The rune was alive, linking her to Stephen in ways that both terrified and thrilled her. It wasn’t just about last night’s blurry gala or the cash he’d thrown at her, it was something ancient, something dangerous.

She needed answers, and Stephen’s arrogance wouldn’t give them. But Toshin… his cryptic warning about “old family curses” nagged at her. She pulled on a faded hoodie and slipped out, her sneakers silent on the mansion’s marble floors as she headed to the garage. Toshin was there, leaning against the Rolls-Royce, his dark eyes narrowing as she approached.

“Janice,” he said, his voice low, cautious. “You’re playing with fire.”

She rolled up her sleeve, the rune glowing faintly. “This showed up after that night with Stephen. You know what it is, don’t you? You knew about his pendant.”

Toshin’s jaw tightened, his gaze flicking to the rune. He stepped closer, his voice barely a whisper. “That’s a vessel’s mark. The pendant’s magic chooses someone to carry its power—or its curse. "You’re tied to Stephen now, but it’s not what you think.”

“Not what I think?” Her voice rose, anger flaring. “I’m seeing his thoughts, Toshin. Feeling what he feels. I didn’t sign up for this!”

He glanced around, ensuring they were alone. “The pendant binds soulmates, but it’s a trap. "The Caldwell family’s been cursed for centuries, and that rune…” He hesitated, his eyes darkening. “It means you’re the sacrifice to break it. Or to make it stronger.”

“Sacrifice?” Her blood ran cold, the word sinking like a stone. “What does that mean?”

Toshin looked away, his silence heavy. “Just stay away from him, Janice." For your own good.”

Before she could demand more, the garage door swung open, and Stephen’s tall frame filled the space, his tailored suit sharp but his expression raw. “Toshin, leave,” he barked, his green eyes locked on Janice, intense and unreadable.

Toshin shot her a warning glance before slipping out. Janice crossed her arms, the rune burning under her sleeve. “What do you want, Stephen? To tell me I’m imagining this?” She gestured to her wrist, her voice trembling with defiance.

He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, sandalwood cologne mixing with the garage’s oil scent. “I found something,” he said, his voice low, urgent. He pulled a crumpled letter from his pocket, its edges yellowed with age. “It was in my family’s vault. The pendant… it’s tied to a curse. Cynthia’s ancestor loved a Caldwell, but he chose someone else. She cursed our bloodline, and this…” He held up the pendant, its glow pulsing. “It binds us to repeat that betrayal. And your rune? It’s the key.”

Janice’s heart pounded, Toshin’s words echoing sacrifice.

“The key to what?” she whispered, stepping closer to herself. The rune flared, and another vision hit: Stephen’s longing, his guilt over Cynthia, his pull toward her. She saw him pacing, torn, her name on his lips. She stumbled, and he caught her, his hands warm on her arms.

“You feel it too, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice rough. Me. Us.”

Her breath caught, the air between them electric. “I feel you,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “But I don’t trust you. Not after last night.”

His eyes softened, guilt flickering. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Janice. I thought…” He trailed off, his fingers brushing her cheek, sending a jolt through her. The rune and pendant glowed brighter, syncing their heartbeats. He leaned in, his lips inches from hers, and she froze, caught between anger and desire. She wanted to hate him, but her body leaned closer, craving his touch.

A sharp scream shattered the moment. Cynthia stormed into the garage, her blonde hair wild, her blue eyes blazing with rage. In her hand was a diamond bracelet, glinting accusingly.

“You thief !” she shrieked, pointing at Janice. “I found this in your room, you little slut. Stealing from Stephen wasn’t enough. You had to take him too?”

Janice’s stomach dropped, the accusation cutting deep. “I didn’t steal anything!” she snapped, but her voice shook. The bracelet was Stephen’s mother’s, priceless and sacred. She’d never seen it before.

Stephen’s face darkened, his eyes flicking between them. “Cynthia, what is this?”

"Cynthia’s smile was venomous, her hand clutching the charm hidden in her pocket, its sickly green glow unseen. “I checked her room after I saw the footage of her sneaking out of yours. She’s playing you, Stephen. And you’re falling for it.”

Janice’s fists clenched, the rune burning. “She’s lying,” she said, her voice steady despite the panic. “You know I wouldn’t do that.”

Stephen’s gaze wavered, torn between them. The pendant flared, and a whisper filled Janice’s mind: The vessel would fall to save the bound. Her heart stopped. The curse wasn’t just about love, it demanded her life.

Across town, in her penthouse, Cynthia stood before a cracked mirror, the charm pulsing in her hand. The shadowy entity’s voice had whispered, Plant the evidence. Break her.* She’d hesitated, her heart twisting, but the charm’s power surged, drowning her doubts. She’d slipped into Janice’s room, planting the bracelet, her mind clouded by the entity’s will. “Stephen’s mine,” she’d whispered, unaware her actions were no longer her own.

As Cynthia’s accusation hung in the air, the rune’s whisper grew louder, and Janice’s vision blurred. She saw herself in that ancient forest, bleeding, Stephen’s ancestor screaming her name as Cynthia’s kin laughed. The truth hit like a blade: she wasn’t just Stephen’s soul mate; she was the sacrifice to end the curse. Or to doom them all.