Breaking Bad: Married To The Devil

I was Lilliana Ward, aged thirty.

Within my social circle, I had been the subject of envy. Residing in an exclusive home within the affluent district of Pocnard, I was blessed with a youthful, attractive, and thoughtful husband who held a deep affection for me. His reputation as a devoted and caring partner was widely acknowledged among our acquaintances.

He went by the name of Clayton Evans, recognized as a prominent senior stylist in his field. As for myself, I formerly managed a medical equipment company that boasted a commendable annual income.

After I got married, I welcomed three beautiful children into my life. Balancing the demands of my company with the responsibilities of motherhood became a challenge. Seeing my struggles, my compassionate husband voluntarily resigned from his own career to assist in managing my company.

Under his capable stewardship, the company flourished, allowing me to transition into a full-time role as a wife and mother, fostering a joyous family life. This transformation garnered admiration from those around us, and I appeared to be the epitome of success to outsiders.

However, my physical health deteriorated steadily. I experienced troubling symptoms, including hair loss, persistent drowsiness, weight loss, and declining memory. Overwhelmed by a sense of despondency and perpetual disorientation, I sought solace in the diagnosis my husband provided: a common mental anxiety disorder.

He engaged a renowned physician who prescribed a substantial amount of medication, entrusting our nanny, Kalani Green, with its preparation and administration.

Unbeknownst to me, this marked the inception of my tragedy.

One fateful day, roused from sleep by a sudden headache, I inadvertently spilled the medication Kalani had prepared. In my groggy state, my cat, driven by its eagerness, consumed the spilled medication before I fully comprehended the situation.

By the time I regained my senses, the cat was nonchalantly grooming itself on the windowsill, having ingested the medicine.

When Kalani came to retrieve the bowl, I chose to remain silent about the spilled medication and the cat's inadvertent consumption. I reasoned that informing her would necessitate preparing another batch of medicine for me, an outcome I sought to avoid.

To be frank, I had consumed enough of this medication already. It seemed utterly ineffective. My husband struggled to find this medicine, always urging me to take it as prescribed. If it weren't for him, I would have dumped the medicine.

Ever since I fell ill, Kalani managed all the household chores. She remained tirelessly occupied every day, barely taking breaks and working diligently without a word of complaint. Sometimes, I deeply sympathized with her.

After a brief conversation with me, she swiftly collected the empty bowl and hurried back to work.

Glancing at the pillowcase, I noticed strands of hair on it, which surprised me. With a sigh, I gathered them, rolled them into a ball, and tucked them into my pocket.

Suddenly, a muffled noise from behind startled me!

Taking a moment to calm my racing heart, I cautiously shifted to the other side of the bed.

To my alarm, Tabby, my cat who moments ago peacefully observed the view from the windowsill, now lay motionless on the floor.

A sense of foreboding gripped me.

"Tabby!" I called out, but it remained still.

This sight sent shivers down my spine, causing my hair to stand on end.

This was strange! Cats were known for their agility and supposed nine lives.

But here was Tabby, motionless on the floor after falling from the window.

Was it dead?

My heart raced. I trembled as I leaned in for a closer look. I noticed its heavy breathing. It didn't seem dead, but rather in a state of deep slumber!

But this kind of sleep...

Suddenly, a dreadful thought struck me!

Instinctively, I leaped off the bed. Without a second thought, I reached for Tabby. It lay weakly, unconscious in its sleep.

It appeared utterly defenseless.

I couldn't help but draw parallels with myself. Was I also sleeping like this every day?

Could it be that...

The notion darted through my mind, leaving me shuddering and profoundly shocked. I dared not entertain it further!

Before I could dwell on it, I heard familiar footsteps outside. Clayton had returned.

Instinctively, I cradled Tabby in my arms, swiftly returning to bed and covering it with a quilt. I regulated my breathing, feigning sleep.

Simultaneously, the doorknob turned, and my heart raced. I sensed someone glancing at my back, unsettling me. Under the quilt, my hands trembled uncontrollably.

But Clayton didn't enter. He left. Just before the door closed, I caught his voice. "Has she taken the medicine..."

After the door shut, I couldn't discern his further words.

I opened my eyes. Unprecedented fear flooded my heart. I didn't even recognize where I was. Was this a nightmare?

The thought of that medicine flooded my mind.

I had cared for Tabby for years, and it had never been like this. It changed after consuming that bowl of medicine.

The idea shook me to the core.

Was someone truly attempting to harm me?

Images of Clayton and Kalani kept crossing my thoughts persistently. Although I wanted to validate my suspicions, a part of me resisted acknowledging them.

I couldn't bring myself to accept Clayton and Kalani might be the ones who had drugged me all the time.

I soon dismissed the idea. It was impossible!

Clayton's affection for me seemed unquestionable.

Ever since our relationship began, he treated me with kindness. Even after we married and had our three wonderful children, he continued to prioritize my well-being and happiness.

We hadn't experienced any significant conflicts in the past decade. I firmly believed in his caring nature and love for me. How could he possibly harm me?

It just didn't add up!

Similarly, I didn't think Kalani would be involved in drugging me.

Before she started working for my family, she was a stranger to me. There were no prior conflicts between us. Furthermore, she received a substantial salary, undoubtedly higher than most others in her field.

Moreover, it was I who chose to hire her back then. She was slightly older than me and projected an image of diligence and vitality. Her track record since high school as a domestic helper was commendable.

Upon hiring her, my husband expressed some reservations privately, "Is she too young? Can we trust her?"

"Not all young individuals are untrustworthy. She appears competent and attractive! Her reputation as a domestic helper is excellent. You're being overly discerning!" I teasingly said.

I added with a hint of jest, "I should be the one feeling concerned!"

Clayton playfully squeezed my cheeks and replied, "What's on your mind? Don't talk nonsense!"

Then, embracing me, he lightly tugged at my earrings and compromised, saying, "Alright. You can let her work for our family as long as you're comfortable with her. After all, she mainly takes care of you, spending every day with you. I'm just worried she is young and might quit suddenly! That could be annoying!"

I never anticipated Kalani had been part of our household for nearly eight years.

Throughout this time, we had a great relationship. I considered her a close friend. How could she drug me?

Besides, if she indeed did something like that, why didn't Clayton notice any adverse effects after I took the medicine? Why didn't he inquire about its impact?

I couldn't bring myself to dwell on those thoughts.

Whether it was because I hadn't consumed the medicine or due to my anxiety over the cat's condition, I found myself unusually awake. I was alert, brimming with energy, and in an incredibly agitated state.

Fear gripped me, preventing me from shutting my eyes.

The night seemed endless.

However, what disappointed me more was that no one seemed to notice my condition or inquire if I needed something to eat.

I began to realize that I had been sleeping alone every night in a separate room, feeling utterly neglected.

It appeared that Clayton wasn't as attentive to my needs as I had hoped.

I had expected him to check on me last night, but he didn't. Was he accustomed to my usual sleepiness?

In the morning, Tabby, nestled in the covers, slowly roused from its deep sleep.

At first, its gaze was unfocused and it emitted a feeble meow.

Gradually, it stretched its limbs and then curled up again. Nestling close to me, it reverted to its sleepy posture, still appearing sluggish and unenergetic. It seemed like it hadn't fully woken up.

The similarity between its state and my own when I woke up led me to entertain my suspicions.

Feeling helpless, I cradled Tabby, burying my face in its soft fur, silently crying.

I couldn't comprehend why this was happening. Who could be doing this to me?

After a long while, I lifted my head, resolute. I told myself I couldn't remain passive and wait for an unknown fate. I needed to uncover the truth myself.

I had resolved to take action. I knew I couldn't alert others yet. It was better to continue pretending to be asleep every day.

Firstly, I needed to identify who was drugging me and unravel the motives behind it.

With these thoughts in mind, I still held onto the belief that my husband wouldn't be involved in drugging me. I found it easier to accept that Kalani was the culprit.

However, the reality astonished me. A profound sense of despair and disillusionment engulfed me.

The situation was more cruel than I had initially imagined.

After a night of sleeplessness, I felt fatigued. I sat up, leaning weakly against the headboard. It was time for my medication. Kalani would be arriving soon. Ensuring I took my medicine on schedule was crucial.

As Kalani pushed the door ajar, she paused, momentarily taken aback, before offering a gentle smile. "Mrs. Evans, you're looking well today! You seem lively. It's a bit surprising!"

I mustered a smile, all the while observing Kalani closely.

She swiftly drew the curtains and draped a coat over me. "I've opened the window so you can get some fresh air."

Feeling drained, I deliberately said, "I'm feeling a bit hungry."

"Oh, that's good news. I'll fetch your breakfast right away. It's been a while since you mentioned feeling hungry."

She hurried out with a wide smile. "Just wait a moment. I'll be right back!"

As she hurried past the bed, a faint whiff of perfume lingered in the air. I had always been sensitive to scents, even the faintest ones. It was my favorite perfume she wore.

I was drawn to this perfume because Clayton enjoyed it. He once expressed his fascination with its delicate scent, stating that he was captivated by it.

I clenched my fists, struggling to breathe.

I involuntarily recalled the news about a woman whose husband conspired with a mistress to kill her. Yet, I found the thought absurd.

Soon after, the door creaked open again. I instinctively glanced up, only to see Clayton entering with the medication.

He appeared concerned, offering a gentle smile as he walked toward me in the sunlight streaming through the window. He looked kind and pleasant. Yet, his words from last night lingered in my mind. He'd asked Kalani if I had taken the medicine. My heart sank.

"Honey, you're looking wonderful today! Kalani mentioned you were feeling hungry, right?"

He placed the medication on the bedside table and took hold of my hand. The warmth of his touch was achingly familiar.

He gazed at me affectionately and asked softly, "What would you like to eat? I'll make it for you."

"You don't have to do that. I won't eat too much."

I tried to ease myself and asked in a feigned concerned tone, "When did you return last night? Are you swamped with work?"

"Lately, there have been numerous order placement meetings. I've been extremely occupied. Several customers are requesting quotes. When I got back, Kalani informed me she had just given you the medicine, so I asked her about it. Then, I headed to the study, worked late, and dozed off there," he replied, even stifling a yawn.

Observing his weary expression, a pang of guilt struck me. He wasn't lying. His explanation aligned with reality. He'd be engrossed in business these days yearly, persistently toiling for our family. How could I have doubted him?

It had to be Kalani who was behind this.

Clayton picked up the bowl, tasted the contents, and said, "It's not too hot. The temperature's just right. Come on, take the medicine first, and then you can have breakfast."

Feigning impatience, I scowled and said in my usual flirtatious manner, "What's the point? It doesn't seem to work no matter how much I take. I feel nauseous. Honey, can't I skip it?"

"Honey, please. You still need to take the medicine on time. Look, you seem better today. When was the last time you mentioned feeling hungry? The day before yesterday, Jorge altered some of the medication, and it appears to have made a difference. Don't give up!" he said calmly, his words flawless. He remained the loving, devoted husband.

Seeing his ignorance, I felt torn. If I took the medicine, I'd fall asleep. I wouldn't be able to gather evidence or uncover the culprit.

"I don't want to take it!" I said, leaning into his embrace, attempting to devise a way to persuade him to leave.

He comforted me with a pat on the back, offering the medicine to my lips. "Honey, trust me. Take the medicine now. We shouldn't lose hope!"

I felt anxious. It seemed there was no escape.

"I will drink it myself." I reluctantly took the bowl, my heart racing.

I was certain that taking the medicine meant I'd be asleep within half an hour.

However, Clayton gazed at me with concern, affection evident in his eyes. He looked every bit the perfect husband. However, his insistence made me suspicious. Why was he so insistent?

In the past, I'd have been swayed by his loving gaze. But now, his smile seemed to hold a hidden agenda.

It felt like he didn't truly care for me, but rather sought to compel me into submission.

I was anxious, unable to voice my concerns. I wanted to protest but feared alerting the person intent on harming me. Thus, reluctantly, I raised the bowl to my lips.