Drowning In Betrayal: Watch Me Shine Now

The cold liquid from the IV drip traveled down the plastic tube and bit into Amanda's vein. She pulled her knees to her chest on the narrow emergency room bed. Her stomach contracted violently. A fresh layer of cold sweat broke out across her forehead.

The noise from the family in the next curtained cubicle drilled into her head. She reached down with her free hand and pulled the thin white hospital blanket up to her chin. The movement tugged the needle taped to the back of her right hand. A sharp sting shot up her arm.

She reached into her coat pocket with her left hand and pulled out her phone. The screen lit up. The notification center was completely empty. Not a single text message. Not even a generic 'Happy Birthday' from a distant relative. A hollow ache settled right beneath her ribs, heavier than the stomach cramps.

The phone vibrated in her palm. The screen flashed with her mother's name. Mother. Amanda stared at the bright letters for two seconds. Her stomach gave another vicious twist. She slid her thumb across the glass to answer.

Meredith did not say hello. Her voice was sharp and cold.

"Pull that needle out of your arm and get to the estate right now."

Amanda gripped the edges of the phone. Her knuckles turned white.

"I have acute gastroenteritis," Amanda said. Her voice shook from the lack of energy. "The doctor said I need to finish this bag of fluids."

A sharp, clicking sound came through the speaker. Meredith was clicking her tongue against her teeth. It was the sound she always made when Amanda disgusted her.

"You always do this," Meredith said. "You always fake an illness on Billie's important days just to steal the spotlight. It is pathetic."

Amanda stopped breathing. Her chest felt like it had been caved in by a concrete block.

A nurse walked past the curtain, carrying a tray of fresh IV bags. Amanda lowered her voice to a whisper.

"I am not faking," Amanda said. "I have been throwing up since noon."

Meredith let out a dry laugh. "If you are not at the Long Island estate in thirty minutes, I am cutting off every credit card in your name."

Amanda bit down hard on her lower lip. The metallic taste of blood coated her tongue.

"Today is my birthday too," Amanda said.

The line went completely dead for three seconds. Then Meredith's voice came back, louder and harder.

"Shut your mouth. Today is the anniversary of Billie's biological father's death. You do not get to celebrate. You do not get to make this about you."

Amanda's eyes burned. The back of her throat swelled, but she forced the tears down. She pressed her hand against her cramping stomach.

"Is Julio coming to pick me up?" Amanda asked.

"Julio has been here all afternoon," Meredith said. "He is helping Billie choose her dress for tonight."

The stomach cramp hit her so hard she folded in half. She dropped her head toward her knees and let out a dry heave.

"Stop making those disgusting noises," Meredith snapped. "Thirty minutes. Do not embarrass me."

The call disconnected. A steady beep played through the speaker. Amanda let her arm drop. The phone slipped from her fingers and hit the white hospital sheets with a dull thud.

The nurse heard the noise and stepped into the cubicle. She looked at Amanda's pale face.

"Do you need something for the pain, honey?" the nurse asked.

Amanda shook her head. The vulnerability drained out of her eyes, leaving behind a flat, dead stare.

She raised her left hand. She grabbed the edge of the medical tape on her right hand. She ripped it back in one fast motion. She pulled the needle straight out of her vein.

The nurse gasped and reached out. She immediately slammed her hand against the red emergency call button on the wall. "Honey, stop! I am calling security if you do not put that down!" the nurse yelled, her voice thick with panic. "We have a situation in cubicle three!"

Blood welled up instantly. It dripped down her skin and stained the white blanket. Amanda grabbed a handful of cotton swabs from the bedside table and pressed them hard against the puncture wound. The sharp, localized pain in her hand made her brain feel incredibly clear.

She threw the blanket off and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Her bare feet hit the cold linoleum floor. The room spun. Black spots danced in her vision. She grabbed the metal rail of the bed with both hands and locked her elbows until the dizziness passed.

The nurse handed her a thick bandage. Amanda muttered a quiet thank you. She peeled the backing off and slapped the bandage over the bleeding hole on her hand.

She picked up her phone and dialed Julio's number. The line rang. And rang. Every empty tone chipped away at the last piece of patience she had left.

The call connected.

Loud music played in the background. Then, the high-pitched, breathy laugh of a woman came through the speaker. Amanda went perfectly still. She knew Billie's voice. This was not Billie.

"What are you throwing a tantrum about now?" Julio asked. His voice was thick with annoyance.

Amanda took a deep breath. She pushed the stomach pain away.

"I am at the hospital," Amanda said. Her voice was completely flat. "Come pick me up right now."

"Traffic is terrible," Julio said. "Take a cab."

"If you are not outside this hospital in ten minutes, the engagement is over," Amanda said.

The background noise on the other end seemed to vanish. The silence stretched.

"Ten minutes," Julio hissed through his teeth. He slammed the phone down.

Amanda shoved her phone into the pocket of her wool coat. She grabbed the plastic water bottle from the tray and took a massive gulp. The ice-cold water hit her inflamed stomach lining. Her entire body shivered violently.

She walked over to the small metal locker in the corner. She pulled out her designer handbag. Her fingers brushed against the expensive leather charm hanging from the strap. Julio had given it to her last month.

A wave of pure disgust rolled through her stomach.

She gripped the charm, yanked it hard enough to snap the metal ring, and tossed it straight into the red biohazard bin next to the door.

She ran her fingers through her damp hair. She pulled her heavy coat tightly around her shoulders to hide how much her body was shaking.

She did not look back at the empty bed. She pushed the heavy double doors of the emergency room open and walked out into the corridor.

Amanda walked down the long, brightly lit hospital corridor. The smell of bleach and rubbing alcohol made her stomach churn. She reached the end of the hall and pushed open the heavy wooden door to the women's washroom. The thick door swung shut, cutting off the noise of the hospital.

She walked straight to the sinks. She gripped the edge of the cold marble counter with both hands. She stared at the mirror. Her face was the color of chalk. Her lips were completely white.

Another cramp ripped through her abdomen. She bent over the sink and turned on the faucet. She scooped freezing water into her hands and splashed it over her face. The shock of the cold water forced her lungs to take a deep breath.

She reached into her bag and pulled out a tube of bright red lipstick. Her fingers shook as she twisted the base. She dragged the heavy, waxy color across her lips. The vibrant red looked jarring against her dead skin, but it hid the sickness.

She pulled her phone and her wireless earbuds from her pocket. She put the right bud in her ear and dialed Jeanette's number.

Jeanette picked up on the second ring. The sound of an airport boarding announcement echoed behind her.

"Amanda?" Jeanette asked. "You sound terrible. What is wrong?"

Amanda leaned her back against the cold tile wall. She closed her eyes.

"Meredith is forcing me to go to the estate," Amanda said. "And I just called Julio. A woman laughed in the background. It was not Billie."

Jeanette cursed loudly into the phone. The sound of a laptop unzipping and keys clacking followed immediately.

"Give me a second," Jeanette said. "I am pulling up his car's tracking logs through my agency's valet contacts."

Two nurses walked into the washroom, chatting about their shift. Amanda immediately stood up straight. She smoothed the lapels of her coat and pretended to check her phone. She kept her face blank until the nurses entered the stalls.

"Got him," Jeanette said. Her voice dropped an octave. "He has been at a private club in Manhattan for the last three hours. Not Long Island."

A soft ping sounded in Amanda's ear. A photo appeared on her phone screen.

Amanda opened the message. The photo was blurry, taken from a distance by a valet. Julio was walking toward a VIP elevator. His arm was wrapped tightly around the waist of a petite woman.

Amanda zoomed in on the screen. The woman's face was turned away, but Amanda recognized the jacket. It was a limited-edition designer coat. Julio had purchased it last week using Amanda's supplementary credit card. She remembered the bank alert from last Tuesday, the one Julio had casually dismissed as 'a business gift for a crucial client's wife'. The lie was so blatant, so effortlessly delivered, it was almost insulting.

The physical pain in her stomach completely vanished. It was replaced by a cold, spreading numbness.

"It is Seraphina Vance," Amanda said. She stared at the coat on her screen.

"Post it," Jeanette demanded. "Put the picture on every social media platform right now. Burn them both to the ground."

Amanda looked up at her reflection in the mirror. The red lipstick looked like blood.

"I have spent three years taking abuse from my family to secure this marriage," Amanda said. Her voice was hollow. "The sunk cost is too high. If I walk away with nothing, they win."

Jeanette let out a heavy sigh. "If you go to that estate tonight without a plan, they are going to use you as a floor mat for Billie."

Amanda's eyes narrowed. The dead look in her pupils shifted into something sharp and dangerous.

"I am not going for free," Amanda said.

She opened her text messages and clicked on Meredith's name. She typed quickly.

If you want me there, deposit two million dollars into my personal account right now as an appearance fee.

She hit send.

Ten seconds later, her phone screen flashed with an incoming call from Meredith. Amanda stared at it, her face completely expressionless, and pressed the red decline button.

A voice message notification popped up immediately. Amanda tapped the transcribe button. The text filled the screen: You ungrateful, extorting little bitch. How dare you-

Amanda did not read the rest. She opened her ride-sharing app, took a screenshot of a car requested to her apartment, started a live location sharing session, and sent it to Meredith.

The car is two minutes away. The money, or I am gone. She stared at the screen, her thumb hovering over the lock button. She meant every word. If the transfer did not clear, she was getting into that car and disappearing into the city.

Jeanette whistled through the earbud. "I am changing my flight. I am coming back to New York right now."

Amanda's phone vibrated in her palm. A notification from her bank appeared at the top of the screen. A wire transfer for two million dollars had just cleared. A text from Meredith followed a second later: Be perfect tonight, or else.

Amanda stared at the seven-figure balance. Her chest felt tight, but not from sadness. It was the suffocating reality of knowing her exact price tag in her mother's eyes.

"The money is in," Amanda said. "Dig up everything you can on Seraphina. I want her entire life history by the time I get to the estate."

"Done," Jeanette said. "Keep your chin up."

Amanda whispered a thank you and ended the call. She pulled the earbud out and dropped it into her bag. She looked in the mirror one last time. She did not look like a sick, abandoned fiancée anymore. She looked like a woman going to war.

She pushed open the washroom door. Her heels struck the linoleum floor with hard, sharp clicks. People in the hallway turned to look at her, but she stared straight ahead.

She walked through the hospital lobby and pushed through the revolving glass doors. The freezing winter wind hit her face like a slap. She pulled her cashmere coat tighter across her chest.

She stood on the top step of the hospital entrance. Her eyes narrowed as a sleek black Maybach pulled up to the curb and shifted into park.

Amanda stood on the concrete steps and watched the rear window of the Maybach roll down. Julio's face appeared in the gap. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes were full of irritation.

The driver hurried out and pulled the rear door open. Amanda walked down the steps. Her face was a mask of ice. She slid into the leather seat and pulled her coat around her legs.

The door slammed shut. Instantly, a thick, suffocating smell filled Amanda's nose. It was a cheap, heavy rose perfume.

Her stomach violently rejected the scent. Acid rushed up her throat. She slapped her hand over her mouth and nose. She reached for the door panel and slammed her finger on the window button. The glass slid down, letting the freezing winter air blast into the cabin.

Julio flinched as the cold wind hit his face. He reached over and pulled the master switch, forcing the window back up.

"Are you insane?" Julio snapped. "You claim you are sick, and now you want to freeze us both to death. Stop throwing tantrums."

Amanda dropped her hand from her mouth. She let out a short, cold laugh. Her eyes locked onto the lapel of his dark suit. A single, long strand of blonde hair was stuck to the fabric. Amanda's hair was pitch black.

"Your car smells like a cheap brothel," Amanda said. "Did you lose track of time at the club?"

Julio's eyes widened for a fraction of a second. His hand shot up to his tie, tugging at the knot. It was his tell. He only did that when he was cornered.

He dropped his hand and glared at her. "Are you having me followed? You are invading my privacy."

Amanda pulled her phone from her pocket. She opened the photo Jeanette had sent her. She shoved the screen directly into Julio's face. The bright backlight illuminated the sweat forming on his upper lip.

Julio stared at the picture of his hand wrapped around Seraphina's waist. He swallowed hard. He pushed the phone away.

"It is a business dinner," Julio said. His voice was louder now, defensive. "I was entertaining clients. Seraphina was there to assist."

The smell of the rose perfume mixed with his lies. Amanda felt physically sick.

"Fire her," Amanda said. Her voice was completely steady. "Fire Seraphina Vance tomorrow morning, and never speak to her again."

Julio stiffened. He squared his shoulders and looked down at her.

"No," Julio said. "Seraphina is a crucial part of the acquisitions team. I am not firing a key employee just because you are feeling insecure."

Amanda stared at him. "She is an intern who cannot even read a basic profit and loss statement. Do not insult my intelligence."

Julio's face turned red. He slammed his open palm against the leather center console. The loud smack echoed in the small space.

"Stop acting like a jealous shrew!" Julio yelled. "You are always so cold. You never smile. You never support me. Seraphina actually looks up to me. She knows how to treat a man."

Amanda stopped breathing. The air in her lungs turned to ice. The last tiny ember of hope she had for this three-year relationship went out. It did not fade. It was crushed.

She leaned back against the headrest. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest to keep her hands from shaking.

"It is her or me," Amanda said. The words tasted like ash in her mouth.

Julio let out a loud, mocking scoff. He leaned closer to her.

"You will never leave me," Julio said. His voice dripped with pity. "Without the Mathews family name protecting you, your parents will eat you alive. You need me."

He reached into his jacket pocket.

"If you behave tonight and play the perfect fiancée," Julio said, "I will buy you that diamond necklace you looked at last month."

Amanda turned her head away from him. The proximity of his breath made her skin crawl.

"Disgusting," Amanda whispered.

Julio's jaw tightened. His pride was hit. He sat back in his seat and pressed a button on the ceiling console. The thick, soundproof glass partition rolled up, separating them from the driver.

The back seat fell into a dead, suffocating silence. The only sound was the heavy thud of the tires rolling over the asphalt.

Amanda turned her face to the window. The yellow glow of the streetlights flashed across her pale skin in a rhythmic, hypnotic pattern. Her jaw ached from how hard she was clenching her teeth.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Julio pull out his phone. He angled the screen away from her, but she could see the soft, affectionate smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. He was texting her.

A sharp, physical pain pierced Amanda's chest. It felt like a hand had reached through her ribs and squeezed her heart until it bruised.

She forced her eyes away from him. She opened her phone and tapped on her notes app. The screen was filled with a long, numbered list. Dates. Times. Lies. Canceled dinners. Smudged lipstick on his collars.

She scrolled to the very bottom. She typed the current date.

Defended his mistress. Tried to buy my silence with jewelry.

She looked at the number at the top of the screen. It was 98.

She locked her phone. The car merged onto the Long Island Expressway. The distant, glowing lights of the massive estates appeared on the horizon. The slaughterhouse was waiting.