SAVING ANGEL

Gilda's POV

"Ahhhh, Ethan. Ughhh, ugh, ugh... Take me to hell with you, you're so good at this... ruin me. Ughnnn."

My hand froze on Ethan's doorknob. The words and intimate whimpers filled the hallway and split something inside me. I told myself I was imagining it. That they couldn't be real. But as the moans kept coming, it became impossible to deny.

My fingers slipped. I'd been ready to face him, to look him in the eye and demand answers, because Ethan would be the last person to do this to me.

We'd been together for years; our third anniversary was just a few weeks away. We'd planned a future together, stitched it up with quiet promises and late-night plans. There was no place in that future for betrayal.

I bent to pick up the bottle of water I'd dropped when I first heard the sound and pushed the door open. The sight that met me sent the bottle clattering from my hand again, with water scattering across the floor in a dripping arc.

"Ethan?" My voice came out thin. Tears stung hot at the corners of my eyes before I could stop them. I'd prepared myself to stand firm, but the figure beside him stole my breath and knotted it in my throat.

"Vera?" The name tore out of me like a threat and a plea all at once. My voice cracked.

My stepsister. We'd grown up under the same roof until life pulled us in different directions, and while she stayed, I left for New York.

I'd come back to Los Angeles after our father died, and because of Ethan. I came back for a life I could manage without long-distance heartbreak. I came back hoping my acting career might finally find a foothold in this city where she already shone.

Vera was famous now. She had everything I'd worked for but never received: attention, money, doors that opened at a whisper.

I'd never asked her for favors, not because I didn't need them, but because I knew the price of asking and how easily she could refuse.

Anger flared hot under my skin. I thought, for a wild second, of throwing myself at her.

On set, she'd refused me a drink when I was exhausted, despite my running up and down as a minor character; she'd laughed when I stumbled through a line. All the little humiliations that had seemed like chance now looked like rehearsal for this moment.

I stood there, soaked water at my feet, my pulse thrumming in my ears, trying to make sense of the betrayal. Ethan, who had promised me mornings and mundane things and forever, and Vera, who was family.

I was supposed to be the female lead. After years of investing in acting lessons, auditioning endlessly and fighting for scraps of recognition, I had finally been given my shot. My first real chance.

I had prepared for months, memorizing lines, rehearsing and building the character in my head and heart. But last night, everything shattered. They told me the roles had been changed. My "big break" had been reduced to a single, pitiful role... a palace maid in the very movie I had poured myself into.

Still, I had taken it. I swallowed the humiliation. I told myself it was enough just to be featured in such a star-studded project, even if my role was nothing more than a shadow lingering in the background.

But then, stepping onto set, I discovered the cruelest twist of all. Vera. My stepsister had stolen the role from me - the lead role I was supposed to own. I swallowed that insult too, forced it down and told myself it wasn't worth the scene it would cause. I bottled up the bitterness and focused on doing my best, no matter how small the part.

And now this? To walk in on Ethan with her, their mouths locked and their bodies shamelessly entangled as if the universe had conspired to drag me to my knees.

The irony clawed at my throat. I wanted to scream and demand an explanation, but instead, Ethan leaned in again, kissing her. Their wet mouths moved against each other, making obscene sounds that churned my stomach. Vera didn't hesitate to return the kiss, moaning into it as if I wasn't even standing there.

The scene played out like a performance staged just for me. And I, the rightful lead, had been cast as the humiliated extra in my own life.

I should have expected it. This wasn't the first time Ethan had cheated. Not even the second. I had forgiven him before, but seeing him with her, with Vera of all people, burned away every shred of forgiveness I might have had left.

He knew how she treated me. He knew the venom she and her mother spewed at me after my parents died. To them, I was nothing but the living scar of the union that "ruined" her mother's perfect marriage. But this? This level of disrespect was unimaginable. I didn't even know where to begin condemning it.

"You know," I said with a dry voice, bile rising in my throat, "you two could quit pretending not to notice I'm here."

They didn't stop even after I said that.

My body shook from rage. I walked to the study table by the side of his bedroom, my eyes locking on the glass vase I had gifted Ethan on his birthday months ago, perched there. Without hesitation, I grabbed it and hurled it at the ground. It shattered into a hundred glittering shards that scattered across the floor.

"Gilda, what have you done?" Ethan's voice cut through the room angrily. He finally tore himself away from her because I had dared to disrupt them.

I stared down at the broken glass, my lips curling into a bitter laugh. "If I hadn't done this, you wouldn't have stopped. You'd still be kissing her."

Before I could even lift my head, pain exploded across my cheek. Ethan's palm had connected with them as he had slapped me.

The tears I had fought so hard to contain broke free, spilling hot and unrelenting down my face. Every ounce of self-control I'd mustered crumbled in that moment, shattering as completely as the vase at my feet.

"I've been nothing but a good girlfriend to you all this while, Ethan... why? Why this?" My voice cracked, heavy with desperation as I searched his face, hoping to find even a shred of explanation that could soften the blow.

I did everything for him. His laundry. His meals. I kept his home spotless. I gave him my time, my body, my heart - all of me!. Even when money was tight, I gave him all I had, all I could have even used to set myself up, even slipping crumpled bills into his hand when he came back broke from wasting it on shallow shows to impress people.

And yet... this was what I got in return? This was the reward for my sacrifices? Tears streamed hot down my cheeks as I stared at him, the betrayal carving deeper with every second.

"You promised me, Ethan. You promised me!" My voice trembled as I turned toward Vera, who sat proudly on the bed, not a hint of shame in her posture. "Why now? And with her?"

Wasn't I enough? Was I not pretty enough? Sure, Vera had the curves, the sultry smirks, the revealing clothes that turned heads everywhere she went. But hadn't Ethan always told me he preferred women who were different? Hadn't he sworn that he hated women like her?

I didn't know what broke me more: the fact that it was Vera sitting there, smug and victorious; the expression of cruel satisfaction painted across her face as I cried; or the cold, detached glances Ethan shot me, like my pain was nothing but a mild inconvenience.

"Look, Gilda," Ethan finally spoke, and I stared, hanging on to every word as though he might still salvage himself.

"Check yourself out... from head to toe." His eyes raked over me, filled with disgust and disdain.

I looked down at myself. A plain red dress, loose-fitting and modest. Nothing like the bum shorts and crop top Vera had tossed carelessly on the floor. But wasn't this who he said he wanted? A decent girl. He had mocked women like Vera before. He had praised me for being different. For being pure till he'd taken my virginity, or so he thought.

"I don't understand you, Ethan." My voice shook as I reached toward him, seeking any scrap of validation. "What's wrong with my dressing? I'm covered, I'm decent. Isn't that what you always wanted?"

He stepped back from my touch like I was poison, nearly making me stumble. His words gutted me.

"That was before, Gilda. Now I love women like Vera. And besides..." He paused, his lips curling cruelly. "I never loved you from the start. I only used you to get closer to her. She's the one I wanted all along."

"What?" My heart lurched painfully in my chest. "Ethan... no, you can't be serious. You told me you loved me. You told me-"

"Ohhh, Gilda, my beloved sister..." Vera's mocking voice rang from the bed, her tongue clicking as she shook her head with feigned pity.

Beloved? I almost choked on the word. Vera had never loved me, never even tolerated me. Her hatred for me was something I had felt in my bones long before tonight. I didn't need anyone to tell me she had nothing but venom to offer.

"Ethan has made his choice," she snapped suddenly, her smugness turning sharp. "Why can't you accept it? He's never been interested in you. He only used you to reach me. Can't you scrape together even an ounce of self-respect and leave?"

Her eyes glittered with malice as she leaned forward, voice dripping venom. "Oh, wait. I forgot - you don't have any. With a whore like you, whose hole men's dicks could get lost in, what shred of shame could you possibly have left? Not that I blame you. From where I stand, it must run in your genes. Just like your mother's."

"Whoa, Vera, you ate with that statement!" Ethan's laugh rang out, mocking, like her cruelty was some kind of entertainment.

I couldn't take it anymore. The insult lodged deep in my chest, choking me. My legs moved on their own as I turned to leave, my vision blurred with tears that refused to stop spilling.

"Come on, Gilda!" Ethan's voice chased after me, cruel and unrelenting. "It's not like I forced anything on you! Did you really think someone as wealthy as I am would settle for an upcoming actress like you? Be serious! You don't even get important roles, you're nothing but the overworked cast shoved into the background! What bragging rights would being with someone like you ever give me in front of my friends?"

Vera's laughter followed next, ringing sharp in my ears, but I didn't turn back. I didn't dare give her the satisfaction of seeing me crumble completely.

All I wanted was to run, to cry until my chest caved in, to scream until my throat bled. To purge this pain from my soul.

Why hadn't I noticed? Why hadn't I seen that I was nothing more than a pawn to him? Why hadn't I realized I was being toyed with and played like a fool?

Why did my life have to feel like one endless script of heartbreak? Why did it seem that everyone who entered it only came to tear me down further and carve deeper wounds into scars that I was still trying to heal?

*****

It's true what they say about the sad news reported on polygamous homes. I thought bitterly as I stepped into the bar, memories tugging me back to the beginning, back to when my father had married my mother and brought us to live with his family.

Vera's mother had been barren for ten years of their union, and when her husband secretly began a relationship with my mother, his secretary, she got pregnant with me only months later.

That pregnancy forced him to make her his second wife. But nothing good came of it. His first wife never forgave her, and when she too conceived and gave birth to Vera shortly after, all hell broke loose.

I shook the thought away and glanced around the bar, scanning for the table where the team from the recently concluded movie sat.

Truthfully, I hadn't planned to attend. But weighed down by the sting of my recent betrayal, I had wanted to drown myself in the distraction of the party. When I heard Vera had declined to come, I thought it safe. And since today was my birthday, it felt like a double win. I could slip in quietly, blend into the crowd, forget my sorrow for a night and secretly celebrate the twenty-seventh birthday I was too broke to mark on my own.

But then my eyes flickered toward the hotel lounge, and I was taken aback when I saw Vera.

My jaw slackened. What in God's name was she doing here? I had thought such gatherings were beneath her. Why had she suddenly appeared, as though fate had decided to mock me? My lips went pale as the only thought in my head was to turn and leave before anyone noticed.

Unfortunately, someone already had.

Gilda!!" a familiar voice rang out, it was the girl who had played the palace maid beside me. She waved with such enthusiasm, probably thinking I had lost my way.

Heat flushed through me from embarrassment. Swallowing hard, I forced myself forward, each step heavier than the last. There was no sneaking out now, not with so many eyes shifting in my direction.

Silently, I prayed that this wouldn't be as bad as I feared. That I wouldn't end the night regretting my decision to come.

"Gildaaa!!" Vera's voice, sweet as poisoned honey, cut through the air the very moment I sat down at the far end of a long, crowded bench.

The main cast sat comfortably on cushioned chairs and polished wooden stools, their placement reflecting the weight of their roles. The extras were crammed together on a hard bench, stacked side by side.

No one here knew Vera was my sister. She had made sure of that. Despite sharing the same surname, she always pretended not to know me in public, and people believed her and her lies about it being a coincidence. I doubted she was calling me now out of kindness.

"I read in your information that you turn twenty-seven today," she announced suddenly. Her words paused, hanging in the air just long enough to draw the crowd's attention to me before she continued.

"I was surprised, for real. Don't get me wrong. But twenty-seven and still working as an extra on movie sets? Honestly, I don't see a future for such a person in this industry." Her voice rang with deliberate sweetness, a venom masked as concern. "If you'd ask me, I suggest you find a man to get you pregnant so you can tie him down with the child and make him marry you. You know what they say, women expire too easily. And with how broke you look, I doubt you could even afford surrogacy in the future if you don't take my advice."

I sat, waiting and hoping for someone atleast, to counter her words. After all, she was only a year younger than me, twenty-six herself. If her cruel analogy applied to me, then what made her think she was immune to the same fate? But instead of protest, I heard murmurs of agreement ripple through the bench. Heads nodded and lips curved in approval.

"I never knew you were this smart, Vera. I thought you were only good at acting," a lady said, raising her glass of wine before gulping it down. She sat perched on a stool; her role must have carried more weight in the movie. "What good advice you gave her. It's now left for her to decide whether to follow or not."

"With how she looks, I bet she's whored herself around to so many men," a man snickered. "I haven't seen any real talent whenever she acts. No doubt her sponsors always leave her stranded after, because sex doesn't equate to talent."

I didn't even flinch at his words. He was shameless, and the married man who had tried forcing himself on me yesterday, promising me a better role than the palace maid I'd been stuck with. His bitterness was only resentment because I had turned him down.

"She's twenty-seven already and hasn't made any real progress in her career? Gosh, I'd gladly quit. She has three more years until she clocks thirty. As I see it, no man will be willing to marry a liability. Gilda, take Vera's advice. She's such a good person, always looking out for everyone's future," another voice chimed in, dripping with mock pity.

"I'm barely twenty-one and I've already achieved a significant feat in my career. Vera is barely twenty-six and already an international act. Heavens, even if I were under a curse, geezzz, I pray it never gets to the level of Gilda's!" another lady whispered, though her words carried just loud enough for everyone to catch.

The table erupted with laughter at her jab, even the girl seated beside me joined in, as though cruelty was the evening's entertainment.

Heat rushed to my face, and my chest tightened. Too embarrassed to sit there any longer, I excused myself with the pretense of going to the restroom. I wasn't pressed, I just desperately needed the privacy it promised, a sliver of space to gather what remained of my dignity before facing them again.

I shouldn't have come. The thought churned in my head, filling me with regret.

I hadn't reached the restroom when a strong hand clamped around my wrist.

Instinctively, I braced to writhe free, even ready to sink my teeth into the hand if I had to. But when I turned and saw my manager, relief washed over me. I was grateful I hadn't unleashed my fight-or-flight instinct on him.

"We need to talk!" he said, dragging me along the hallway that stretched opposite the restroom.

I trusted him, so I didn't resist. Yesterday, when I found out my lead role had been stripped from me, he had fought to at least secure me a spot as an extra. It wasn't much, but it was something. The thought that he had stood up for me, even in that small way, warmed my heart.

We stopped at a door marked Storage Room. He pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked it.

For a second, I froze. "Wait... is this where we're supposed to talk? Why here? The hallway is already quiet enough. No one has passed since we walked down here. What could we possibly have to discuss that you need to be in this place?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair before turning to me.

"Look, Gilda... I'm sorry. You're talented, yes, I'll give you that. But you don't have sponsors..."

His words instantly set off alarms in my head. I tried to pull my wrist free from his grip, but he only tightened it. Something about his tone wasn't right.

"I'm doing this because I have to protect my own career," he continued, avoiding my eyes. "If you attend the audition tomorrow and land that lead role, my head will roll. I have a family to feed, Gilda. I can't risk it. So... you'll have to stay here until it's over. I promise, I'll come back for you once the audition ends."

Before I could even process what he was saying, he shoved me inside the room...