Late at night, I sat alone in our newly finished wedding suite, facing the antique Western mirror I'd won at auction for a small fortune, trying on the diamond crown I was meant to wear for the wedding tomorrow. The woman in the mirror was lovely, her eyes sweet with the joy of a bride about to walk down the aisle. Victor had booked out an entire private island for this wedding. Everyone said I was the happiest woman in our circle. My parents had died young, leaving me a fortune worth billions. Not only had I held the family business together, I'd also found a man who loved me down to the bone. Just as I was lost in that happiness, the surface of the antique mirror suddenly rippled like water. My once-clear reflection began to twist and blur. Then a woman appeared in the glass — skeletal, her hair gone gray, wearing a psychiatric hospital's restraint jacket. She was strapped to a rusted iron bed, her eyes hollow and sunken, her cheeks covered in festering sores. And that face was my own.
The woman in the mirror slowly turned her head, those ash-gray eyes fixing on me. “Blair, look at me.” Her voice was hoarse, like sandpaper grinding. “I'm you, ten years from now.” In that instant, the blood in my veins seemed to freeze. Ten years from now? How could I ever turn into something this ghastly? “V… Victor is a monster!” The woman in the mirror suddenly grew frantic, thrashing against her restraints, the chains clashing with an ear-splitting screech. “He never loved you! He loves your money!” “You think you have the early-onset Alzheimer's that runs in your family?” “No! He's been poisoning you!” “Those imported ‘miracle pills’ he hands you every day — they're hallucinogens that destroy your nervous system!” “He turned you into a madwoman who can't even remember her own name, then took legal guardianship of you and seized Kensington Group!” I shook my head desperately, tears spilling out. “Impossible! Victor would lay down his life for me — how could he ever hurt me?” Years ago, when I was in that car accident, he'd shielded me with his own body, his back torn bloody by the glass. How could he be a con artist? “You fool!” The me from ten years later laughed, a shrill, ghastly sound. “That accident was staged — he hurt himself on purpose to win you over!” “And your best friend Chloe — she's been sleeping with Victor for ages!” “While you're locked in a psych ward eating slop, the three of them — him, her, and the baby — are living in your villa, spending your money, sleeping in your bed!” “Before the wedding tomorrow, he'll bring out a full power-of-attorney document for you to sign.” “Don't sign it! If you do, there's no coming back!” The image in the mirror began to flicker, the woman's voice growing fainter and fainter. “Check his second phone… the passcode is Chloe's birthday…” “Remember — don't drink anything he gives you…” The glass abruptly went still. In the reflection was only my own face, pale and terrified.
“Blair, why are you sitting on the floor?” The bedroom door opened, and Victor walked in wearing silk pajamas, carrying a delicate porcelain bowl. He hurried to my side and helped me up, his eyes full of concern. “Did you get dizzy again?” He gently touched my forehead, then picked the crown up off the floor and set it on the vanity. “Here, take today's medicine first. The doctor said it slows down your memory loss.” He scooped up a spoonful of the dark, murky liquid, blew on it, and held it to my lips. “Good girl. Drink it and get to bed early — tomorrow you'll be the most beautiful bride in the world.” Ten minutes earlier, I'd have swallowed it without hesitation and been moved to tears by his tenderness. But now, looking at that impossibly gentle face, my stomach just churned. The medicine gave off a strange, bitter-sweet smell. That festering face from ten years later wouldn't leave my mind. “I… I feel a little nauseous. I'll drink it later.” I turned my face away, fighting to keep from trembling. Victor's eyes darkened almost imperceptibly, then quickly softened again. “The best medicine tastes the worst. You've been so forgetful lately — you can't skip your doses.” There was a faint, hard edge under his tone. “Be good. I'll feed it to you.” I clenched my fists so hard my nails nearly cut into my palms. “Victor, I really can't drink it right now. I want to take a shower first.” I stood, not daring to meet his eyes, and all but fled into the bathroom. The second I locked the door, I leaned back against it, gasping for air. I heard Victor moving around outside, and after a while his footsteps left the bedroom. I turned on the faucet, letting the running water cover everything. Then I quietly eased the bathroom door open a crack. Victor wasn't in the bedroom. Barefoot, I crossed to the nightstand and pulled open the bottom drawer. There was a hidden compartment there. Victor thought I didn't know about it, but I'd found it long ago while cleaning — I'd just never opened it, because I trusted him. I fished out a black backup phone. With shaking fingers, I typed in Chloe's birthday: 0912. The screen lit up. The phone had only one hidden messaging app. The pinned contact was named “Babe.” The profile picture was Chloe's beloved ragdoll cat. I opened the chat history, and a wave of disgust drowned me instantly. [Honey, the baby kicked me again today. I can't wait for him to be born.] Attached was a photo of a pregnant belly — and the background was the sofa in mine and Victor's wedding suite! Victor replied: [You've worked so hard, love. Once that stupid woman signs the power of attorney tomorrow, Kensington Group is ours. Then I'll send her straight to a sanatorium and bring you in to live here out in the open.] Chloe: [Should we up her dosage? I'm scared she'll come to her senses tomorrow and refuse to sign.] Victor: [Relax, I doubled tonight's dose. By tomorrow her brain will be total mush. She'll do whatever I tell her.] Chloe: [You're so smart, honey. I love you to death. That frump still thinks she's dying of some terminal illness — it's hilarious.] I bit down on my lip until I tasted blood, just to keep from screaming out loud. Ten years of friendship. Five years of love. All of it a carefully built con to bleed me dry and slaughter me! They didn't just want my money — they wanted to turn me into a total madwoman, to make me wish I were dead! I quickly forwarded all the chat logs and the photo of the prenatal report to my private encrypted email. Then I deleted the forwarding records and put the phone back in the compartment exactly as it had been. The moment I finished, footsteps approached the bedroom door. I rushed back into the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. When Victor pushed the door open, I was just coming out, drying my hair. “All done?” He walked over smiling, still holding that bowl of medicine. “It's the perfect temperature now. Drink up.” I looked at him and suddenly smiled. “Okay.” I took the porcelain bowl and walked to the windowsill. “Victor, you're so good to me.” “For you, I'd do anything.” The instant a satisfied smile crossed his face, I flipped my wrist. Every last drop of the dark liquid poured into the prized clivia plant on the sill. “Oops, my hand slipped.” I looked at him with fake alarm. Victor's face went instantly ugly, a vein jumping at his temple. But he quickly choked down his anger and forced out a smile. “It's fine. I'll go make you another bowl.” “Don't bother.” I cut him off, walked over, and wrapped my arms around his waist, burying my face against his chest. “It's too late. I'm tired, and I have to be up early tomorrow.”
The next day, at the seven-star hotel owned by Kensington Group. Everyone of note in our circle had gathered for the wedding of the century. In the dressing room, I looked at my flawlessly made-up face in the mirror, my eyes clear and cold. “Blair, you look stunning today!” Chloe walked in wearing her bridesmaid dress, lightly made up, a designer bag on her arm, beaming as she came up behind me. “This gown is couture. Victor really spared no expense for you.” As she spoke, she very naturally touched her slightly rounded belly. If I hadn't seen those messages, I'd never have noticed that unconscious, protective little gesture. “He really did put a lot of ‘thought’ into me.” I watched her reflection with a faint, knowing smile. Chloe froze for a beat, as if my gaze cut a little too sharp. But she covered quickly and pulled a red gift box out of her bag. “Blair, I went to the church and had this cross blessed especially for you.” “You haven't been well lately, always forgetting things. The pastor said this will keep you safe and keep your mind clear.” She pressed the cross into my hand, her smile all sincerity. “You have to keep it on you at all times.” I looked at the cheap little cross in my hand. Inside, I was sneering. Giving me a cross? Was she afraid I wasn't dying fast enough — or testing whether I'd noticed something was wrong? “Thanks, Chloe.” I casually tossed the cross into the trash can beside me. “But I don't believe in any of that. Besides, with Victor around, what could possibly happen to me?” Chloe stared at the cross in the trash, her face stiffening. “Blair, you… why would you throw it away? That was a heartfelt gift.” “Sorry, I'm a hard-nosed realist.” I shot her a cold glance. Just then, the dressing room door opened. Victor walked in wearing a sharply tailored white tuxedo, every inch the storybook prince. “Blair, are you ready? The ceremony's about to start.” He came to my side, his eyes flicking between me and Chloe. Chloe instantly put on a wounded expression and shot him a hesitant look. Victor gave her an almost invisible signal, then turned to me. “Blair, before the ceremony starts, there's a small document I need you to sign.” He pulled a folded document from his inner pocket and held it out to me. “What is this?” I asked, though I knew full well. “It's a full power of attorney.” Victor's voice was dripping with tenderness. “You haven't been well lately, and the doctor says you need a long rest — you can't overexert yourself.” “Running Kensington Group is exhausting. I don't want you wearing yourself out.” “Just hand the company over to me for a while. You can simply relax and be my Mrs. Thorne, all right?” He pressed a diamond-studded pen into my hand. “Sign it. We've got hundreds of guests and the press out there waiting for us.”
I looked down at the document. It was all spelled out in black and white. The moment I signed my name, every share of Kensington Group, all decision-making power, even the real estate in my name, would be Victor's to do with as he pleased. This was the trap he'd so carefully laid. “Blair, just sign it.” Chloe chimed in from the side. “Victor only wants what's best for you. Look at yourself lately — you fall asleep in meetings. Hand the company to him. What's there to worry about?” Watching this pair of dogs sing the same tune, I suddenly found it absurdly funny. “Victor.” I lifted my head and stared straight at him. “Do you think I've gone so mad I can't even read anymore?” The smile on Victor's face froze. “Blair, what are you talking about? You're just sick…” “Sick?” I shot to my feet and flung the power of attorney into his face. The sharp edge of the paper sliced across his cheek, leaving a thin line of blood. “Victor, those hallucinogens you've been dosing me with — did you really think I didn't know?” The instant the words left my mouth, the air in the dressing room froze. Victor's pupils contracted violently, but he was an old fox — he forced himself calm in a heartbeat. “Blair! Are you having another episode? You're babbling nonsense again!” He rushed forward to grab my hands. “Chloe, quick, get her medicine!” Chloe panicked too, scrambling a pill bottle out of her bag and shaking out two white tablets. “Blair, stop this, just take your medicine!” She lunged over, trying to help Victor pin me down. “Get away from me!” I swung my hand around and delivered a deafening slap straight across Chloe's face. Crack! I put everything into it. Chloe shrieked, crashing to the floor, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. “You dare hit me?!” Chloe clutched her face, screaming in disbelief. “I'm hitting you precisely because you're a shameless slut!” I looked down at her from above. “Carrying another man's bastard and playing my bridesmaid — Chloe, aren't you afraid you'll give birth to a monster?” The words landed like a bomb, blowing Victor and Chloe to pieces. Victor completely lost his composure. He stared at me in disbelief, the devoted mask he'd worn ripping away to reveal the vicious face beneath. “You… how could you know?” “If you don't want something known, don't do it in the first place.” I gave a cold laugh, pulled a stack of photos from my bag, and hurled them in their faces. The photos rained down like snow. Every one was their vile chat logs and that prenatal report. “Victor, you thought you'd pulled it off without a trace?” “That poison you fed me every day — I never drank a single drop!” “Did you really think I'd hand Kensington Group over to a backstabbing snake like you?”
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