Five
1662 Words
Elena’s smile didn’t fade as Aria lay trembling on the floor.
Satisfied, Elena walked out.
The door slammed shut.
Aria flinched at the sound, and then came the click.
Once.
Twice.
Locked.
Elena softened the moment Julius stepped in.
“Oh, my darling,” she said, slipping into his arms.
He kissed her forehead absently. “I heard Aria is back in the house.”
Her hands cupped his face at once. “You’re exhausted.”
“I’m not.”
“If we sent her away like that,” Elena said quietly, “the media would crucify us.”
She sighed. “She’s still my cousin.”
Julius hesitated—then nodded.
“Let her recover first,” Elena added. “Quietly.”
He turned away.
Elena smiled and leaned in, her voice a whisper.
“Don’t worry. I have everything under control.”
—
Aria rested her head against the arm of the wheelchair, her body unnaturally still.
Morning light crept in through the thin gap between the curtains, pale and weak, brushing softly against the floor.
The past twenty-four hours replayed relentlessly, humiliation layered upon pain, pain buried beneath helplessness.
Her body ached in places she hadn’t known could ache, every breath a reminder of how fragile she had become. But it was the heaviness in her chest that crushed her the most.
Her fingers curled weakly against the armrest.
I have nowhere to go.
No money.
No family.
Not even a future.
The thought settled deep in her bones, heavier than sleep, heavier than despair.
Then—
A soft click.
Metal turning in a lock.
Aria’s head snapped up, her spine stiffening as dread rippled through her.
The door opened.
Elena stepped inside.
She looked flawless, posture straight, expression calm, heels clicking softly against the polished floor as if this room, and everything in it, belonged to her. Her presence alone felt invasive, suffocating.
Elena tilted her head, studying Aria like an object that had disappointed her.
Aria's eyes lifted slowly, dark and glassy, burning with pain she refused to voice. It sat in her gaze, raw, unfiltered, accusing.
Elena noticed.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Elena asked, her tone teasing, almost amused. Mock-innocent.
Aria’s chest rose and fell unevenly. Her fingers curled against the wheelchair arm, nails biting into her skin, but she still said nothing.
Silence answered Elena.
And Elena smiled.
Just then, footsteps approached.
The door opened wider.
Julius stepped in.
His face was pale, his movements hesitant, as though he hadn’t planned to come this far. His eyes lifted and found Aria.
For a long moment, he simply stared.
Aria’s heart clenched violently.
The man who promised me everything, she thought bitterly. The man who swore he loved me… and now he’s standing here, choosing her.
The room felt unbearably small.
Elena noticed the look.
A flicker of something sharp crossed her face.
She moved instantly.
“Baby,” Elena cooed, stepping into Julius’s space, her hand sliding onto his shoulder as if to claim him. “Are you heading to work already?”
Her voice was sweet. Too sweet.
Julius blinked, tearing his gaze away from Aria and turning to Elena. “Yes… we have an urgent meeting.”
“Oh?” Elena smiled.
She pulled him closer and kissed him.
Not briefly.
Not gently.
The kiss was slow, deep, deliberate, possessive in a way that left no room for doubt.
The room shrank around Aria.
She watched, fists clenched, breath caught painfully in her throat. Heat rushed through her chest, burning, tearing, the betrayal cutting sharper than any wound she had endured so far.
Julius stiffened.
After a moment, he pushed back—not forcefully, but enough to break the kiss, as if he needed air.
“I… I need to get going,” he murmured, voice low, strained, almost apologetic.
And then he left.
The door closed behind him.
Elena straightened slowly, smoothing her hair as though nothing had happened. Then she turned back to Aria, her eyes narrowing, the softness gone.
“I hope you realize,” Elena said softly as she stepped closer, “that Julius and I… our wedding is in a few days.”
She paused deliberately, watching the words sink in, watching Aria’s fingers tighten against the arm of the wheelchair.
“Funny, isn’t it?” Elena continued, her lips curling. “How you once imagined he’d be yours.”
She took another step forward, looming now, her shadow falling over Aria.
“But look at us now.”
Pain flashed violently in Aria’s eyes.
“He—he doesn’t love you,” Aria said, her voice shaking but cutting through the air like glass. “Wake up from your dream.”
She forced herself forward slightly, meeting Elena’s gaze despite the pain screaming through her body.
“No man could ever love a manipulative, heartless woman like you,” Aria went on, her voice breaking with raw hurt. “He’ll never love you. Didn’t you see how he stared at me?”
A bitter, broken laugh tore from her chest.
“I’ll always be his first love,” she yelled, frustration and despair crashing together. “There’s nothing you can do about that!”
Tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to look away.
“SHUT UP!”
Elena’s scream tore through the room like shattered glass.
Before Aria could even flinch, the door burst open. Footsteps thundered in, hurried and panicked, as the maids rushed inside at once.
Then her lips twisted slowly into a smile, slow, cruel, delighted.
“Very well,” she said softly, almost to herself.
She turned and walked to the drawer, pulling it open with deliberate calm. When she straightened, a pair of scissors gleamed in her hand.
“If you want to challenge me,” Elena said quietly, “then you should learn the cost of defiance.”
She snapped her fingers. “Hold her.”
The maid rushed towards her quickly.
“No—wait—let me go!” Aria cried as they grabbed her arms.
She struggled, her body weak but desperate, nails scraping uselessly against their hands. They dragged her from the wheelchair, her knees hitting the floor hard.
Pain ripped through her spine.
“Please—stop!” she sobbed as they released her onto the cold floor.
Her breath came in broken gasps. Her hands trembled as she tried to push herself up, but her body betrayed her again.
Elena stepped closer.
The morning light caught the sharp blades of the scissors, making them gleam.
“You see, my darling Aria,” Elena said with a devilish smile, “you talk too much.”
“Hold her properly,” she ordered.
The maids tightened their grip.
Aria tried to resist, but hopelessness crashed down on her, crushing what little strength she had left. Tears streamed down her face as fear finally broke through.
Elena moved closer.
“What do you think you have,” she whispered viciously, “that’s better than me?”
She grabbed a fistful of Aria’s hair.
“No—please—!” Aria screamed.
The scissors closed.
A thick portion of her hair fell to the floor.
Aria let out a broken cry, her whole body shaking.
“He was looking at you?” Elena continued, laughing harshly as she cut again. “Let’s see if he still will.”
More hair fell.
Again.
And again.
Elena stepped back at last, breathing hard, then began to laugh—loud, unrestrained.
Aria’s long hair now barely brushed her cheeks, uneven, ruined, lying scattered across the floor.
She sobbed uncontrollably, her chest aching, her heart splintering.
Elena stood over her, smiling in satisfaction.
Elena’s smile didn’t waver.
She turned, picked up the glass from the table, and weighed it once in her palm.
Then—without warning, she swung.
The glass came down against Aria’s head with a sharp, hollow crack.
Pain exploded instantly.
Aria screamed as the world tilted violently, her body collapsing sideways. The glass slipped from Elena’s hand and shattered against the floor, fragments scattering.
Her ears rang. Her vision blurred.
Before she could even gather herself, Elena grabbed her by the wrist.
“You like calling people shameless?” Elena said softly, her voice dripping with satisfaction.
She forced Aria’s hand downward.
The pieces of the bottles bit into her skin.
Aria cried out, struggling weakly, her breath breaking apart as fear and pain overwhelmed her. Tears streamed down her face as she tried to pull away, but her body refused to cooperate.
“Stop… please…” she stammered, her voice barely audible.
Elena leaned closer, her eyes dark, unfeeling.
“This is what shameless people do.”
She released Aria abruptly.
Aria collapsed to the floor, gasping, shaking uncontrollably, her entire body screaming in protest. The room spun as warmth spread beneath her trembling fingers.
The maids stood frozen—faces pale, hands clenched, until Elena flicked her fingers dismissively.
“Leave.”
They rushed out.
Elena looked down at Aria one last time.
There was no anger left on her face. No effort.
Just quiet triumph.
Then she turned away to leave.
Aria lay there, chest rising unevenly, each breath a struggle. The room blurred in and out of focus, the ceiling spinning as darkness crept at the edges of her vision.
You’ll pay for this, Elena, she thought weakly.
Even if it’s my last breath… I’ll make sure you do.
She gasped.
Air burned her lungs.
Her eyes drifted weakly, until she saw it.
A phone.
Hope flickered. Fragile. Desperate.
With the last strength left in her broken body, she dragged herself forward, fingers trembling as they brushed the screen. She pressed three numbers clumsily.
A voice answered.
“911. What’s your emergency?”
Aria’s lips parted.
No sound came out.
Her chest burned as she fought for air.
Tears slid down the side of her face.
- Writer
