His Antidote, Her Torment

For five years, I was Julian Heath's dirty little secret. As the CEO of a tech empire, he was a king, but a rare neurotoxin made him a prisoner. My unique biochemistry was his only antidote, requiring hours of intimate contact to keep him alive.

He was convinced I was the one who poisoned him-an obsessed stalker who had trapped him in a disgusting dependency.

Tonight, he gave me the "attention" he said I always craved, live-streaming a video of our most private moments to a private auction.

As the bids climbed, he introduced me to his new fiancée, Cassandra. She was his real savior, he announced. Her family had developed a permanent cure, derived from my own blood. After tonight, he would finally be free of me.

He had it all wrong. I wasn't born with the antidote. I was a biochemist who spent a year in a hidden lab modifying my own genetic code, turning myself into a living cure to save the man I'd loved since childhood.

He left me in that room with the live stream still playing, his laughter echoing down the hall. The love I had for him turned to ash.

I walked out, found a payphone, and made a call to the only person who knew the truth.

"I want you to help me fake my death."

Chapter 1

For five years, the first of every month was a ritual of humiliation.

Tonight was no different.

I stood in the cold, sterile bedroom of Julian Heath' s penthouse, a room I knew better than my own but could never call my own. The air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne and his silent rage.

He was the CEO of Heath Tech, a king in his New York City empire, but once a month, he was a prisoner to a rare neurotoxin.

And I was his antidote.

That was the secret pact my family had been forced into. My unique biochemistry, a one-in-a-billion genetic quirk, was the only thing that kept the poison from killing him. The cure wasn' t a pill or an injection. It required hours of intimate, skin-to-skin contact for his body to absorb the antibodies my own produced.

He thought I had done this to him.

He thought I was an obsessed stalker who had poisoned him and then trapped him in this disgusting dependency.

That lie was the reason for the last five years of my life. A life of being his secret, his shame, and the target of all his hatred.

The world saw him as a cold, powerful genius. They saw me, Bailey Donaldson, as the shameless woman who had somehow latched onto him, a parasite he couldn't shake. They whispered about me at parties I was forced to attend, their eyes filled with scorn. They didn't know I was the reason he was still alive.

I knew the truth.

I was his savior, and he was my tormentor.

The bedroom door opened, and Julian walked in. He wasn't looking at me. His eyes were fixed on a large screen on the wall, which until now had been dark.

He held a tablet in his hand, his thumb hovering over the screen.

"A special gift for you tonight, Bailey."

His voice was like ice. It always was. But tonight, there was a triumphant cruelty in it that made the hairs on my arms stand up.

The screen flickered to life. My breath caught in my throat.

It was a video of me.

A video taken without my knowledge, in this very room. It showed me in our most private moments, the moments of the "treatment." The images were intimate, vulnerable, and now they were being broadcast on a massive screen for him to watch with cold detachment.

"What are you doing?" I whispered, my voice trembling.

"Giving you the attention you've always craved," he said, a cruel smirk on his lips. "This is currently being live-streamed. To a private auction."

My blood ran cold. I stared at the screen, at the bidding numbers climbing in the corner. People were paying to watch my deepest humiliation.

"Julian, please," I begged, tears blurring my vision. "Stop this. Please."

He walked over to me, his steps slow and deliberate. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. His grip was painfully tight.

"Stop? Why would I stop? This is what you wanted, isn't it? To be close to me, to be a part of my life. You drugged me, Bailey. You did this to me. For five years, I've had to touch you, to endure you. Now, you get to endure this."

He leaned in, his voice a low, vicious growl in my ear.

"And when I'm done with this auction, I'll send the video to your disgraced father. Let him see what his precious daughter has become."

"I didn't do it," I sobbed, the words tearing from my throat. "I never did anything to you."

He ignored me, his eyes dark with a satisfaction that made me sick. He looked at me like I was something he had scraped off his shoe. He released my chin, only to shove a glass of wine into my hand.

"Drink," he commanded. "You look pathetic."

Just then, the door opened again. A woman stood there, draped in a silk robe, her long hair cascading over her shoulders. It was Cassandra Gutierrez, the heiress to a rival pharmaceutical empire.

She walked straight to Julian, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him deeply, right in front of me.

My heart, which I thought had turned to stone long ago, shattered into a million pieces.

Julian pulled away from her, a genuine smile on his face. It was a smile I had never seen directed at me.

"Bailey, meet Cassandra," he said, his voice laced with venomous pleasure. "My fiancée."

He looked at Cassandra with adoration. "And my savior. Her family has done what you never could. They've developed a permanent cure. A final cure, derived from your own tainted blood they've been analyzing for months. After tonight, I will finally be free of you."

He turned his cold eyes back to me. "And I will make sure you pay for every second of the hell you put me through."

I stood there, frozen, as he and Cassandra left the room, their laughter echoing down the hall.

The live stream on the wall continued to play.

He had it all wrong. It wasn't my family that had some special, magical ability. That was just a story the Heaths and my family had agreed upon to hide the ugly truth.

The truth was, I wasn't born with the antidote.

When I learned he had been poisoned, I, a biochemist, spent a year in a hidden lab, a year of agonizing experiments, modifying my own genetic code. I turned myself into a living, breathing cure. I did it to save him.

I did it because I had loved him since we were children.

I thought one day he would find out the truth and see my sacrifice. I thought he would remember the boy who promised to protect me.

Instead, he stood by and let the world, and now a room full of strangers, tear me apart.

My tears finally stopped. There was nothing left to cry for.

I walked out of the penthouse, my mind numb. I found a payphone and made a call.

"Arden," I said, my voice hollow. It was Julian's grandfather, the only other person who knew the entire truth.

"Bailey? What is it?" His voice was filled with concern.

"I can't do this anymore," I said, the words barely a whisper. "I'm done."

"What do you mean, you're done? The cure isn't stable yet. Julian still needs you."

"Cassandra Gutierrez has the cure. He's engaged to her. He's free of me." I explained the auction, the public humiliation, the final, crushing blow.

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. I heard him sigh, a heavy, weary sound. "I am sorry, my child. For what my family has put you through."

"It's over now," I said. "I want to leave. I want to disappear." I took a deep breath. "I have a request."

"Anything."

"I want you to help me fake my death."

I needed to erase Bailey Donaldson from the world.

"And Arden," I added, my voice hardening with a resolve I didn't know I possessed. "I want you to promise me something. Never, ever tell him the truth. Let him believe his lies. Let him live with what he's done."

Let him think he destroyed me. It was the only way I could truly be free.