Later that day,
Jason rushed into the hospital room, breathing heavily, his eyes filled with anger. The room was unnervingly still, a cold feeling hanging in the air, as if something bad was about to happen. Seeing Vera, pale and weak in the bed, made his anger flare up even more. His jaw tightened in pain, and his fists shook, holding back a violent outburst.
"He's evil. I told you," Jason spat, his voice trembling with raw anger.
Vera didn't respond. She couldn't. Her body was drained, her strength stolen by the blood she had lost.
She lay there, unmoving, her vacant gaze locked onto the ceiling, tears slipping down her cheeks in silent agony. She wasn't sobbing, but the pain was evident in the way her chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths.
The doctor had warned her to keep her emotions in check, to avoid triggering complications in her fragile state. But how could she? How could she suppress the storm raging inside her when the man she loved had tried to kill their child?
She had thought it through carefully, and her finger had eventually pointed to Stan. She tried to ignore it, convinced that Stan wouldn't be capable of such a thing. But after Jason's thorough analysis, she realized it had to be him.
"I knew there was more to his sudden agreement to keep the pregnancy!" Jason seethed, pacing like a caged beast. "He never wanted the child!" His voice thundered through the ward.
Vera squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the truth, but the evidence was undeniable. She had never taken any pills. The doctor said the effects would have manifested within thirty minutes of consumption. The timeline was clear. She had eaten breakfast in her office that morning, food she brought from home.
And who was at home with her when the meal was prepared? Stan.
Her breath hitched, her body trembling as the realization slammed into her like a brutal wave. Stan had been the one in the kitchen. Stan had carried the food packs. They had left the house together. He was the only one who could have done this.
Her lips quivered. "It's difficult to believe," she whispered, trying to suppress the sob rising in her throat.
Only four people knew about her pregnancy, herself, her doctor, Jason, and Stan. She had deliberately kept it from Olivia, still wary after her last betrayal. Her doctor was miles away. Jason had never stepped foot in her office, had no way of knowing what she brought for breakfast.
It was him. It had to be him. Stan, the man she loved.
"But it's true!" Jason's voice cracked with fury. "Even if he didn't want the child, he wouldn't have been so cruel! Vee, you almost died! What if—" His voice faltered, but he forced the words out. "What if you had died?"
Vera's body went cold. She would have died.
Stan hadn't just wanted to end the pregnancy, he had wanted to end her.
A violent tremor coursed through Vera's body as the horrifying thought sank in. What if she hadn't been found in time?
The image was clear in her mind.
She would have bled out on the cold floor of her office, her body pale, lifeless. The world around her would have carried on, oblivious to the fact that she was slipping away. By the time anyone realized, it would have been too late.
Her funeral would have been arranged. A black casket. Mourners dressed in sorrow. Her mother, broken beyond repair, wailing over the loss of her only daughter. The woman who had already suffered so much would have been shattered, her grief unending.
Her little brother, her sweet, innocent brother who depended on her, would have collapsed from the weight of it all, his world crumbling without the sister who had always protected him.
And Stan…
A fresh wave of nausea rolled through her at the thought of him.
Would he be there? Would he shed a single tear? No.
He would have been drinking, celebrating her death. Perhaps, he would have even feigned grief, whispering words of false regret to those who asked. But behind closed doors, he would have been relieved.
He wanted me dead.
The doctor had said the dosage was enormous, far too much for any normal person to consume. It wasn't a mistake. It wasn't just to end the pregnancy.
Stan had made sure she wouldn't survive. Had made sure she would lose her womb.
She couldn't bring herself to tell Jason what the doctor had said, that her chances of carrying a child were slim, maybe even impossible. The damage was already done, the cruel consequence of the pills forced upon her.
Her fingers trembled as she gripped the edges of her sheets, as if holding herself together. The words burned in her throat, a confession she couldn't voice. How could she tell him that Stan had stolen more than just her choices. He had taken her future, the dream of a child.
A shudder racked her body. He really is evil.
The realization left a bitter taste in her mouth. She had once loved this man, had trusted him with her heart, her body, her soul. And yet, he had been capable of something so monstrous.
A violent shiver racked her body as her mind reeled back to the moment he sat beside her earlier, pretending to care, pretending to worry. His gentle touch, his soothing words, all of it had been an act. His proposed trip to Gojota? A lie. A distraction to keep her unsuspecting until his poison took full effect.
The man she had given her heart to had planned her death. Her mind spiraled. Who was Stan?
She had never questioned his life before, his wealth, his connections, his secrecy. But now, it bit at her like a parasite. His cars, limited edition. His suits, tailored perfection. His house, an emblem of power. He had claimed to be managing Zathcore AutoTech , the only firm in the country dealing in robotic technology. Yes, their employees were paid well, but was it enough to fund the life he lived?
Or was he involved in something else? Something darker?
She had never met his friends, his colleagues. He never spoke about his family.
What was he hiding?
A chilling thought sliced through her mind. Had he ever truly loved her?
A broken sob tore from her throat as reality came crashing down. "He wanted me dead," she whispered, the words tasting like poison on her tongue.
Jason's fists slammed onto the bedside rail, his voice sharp with rage. "And he will pay for it."
Vera's chest heaved, her sorrow hardening into something dark. Something vengeful. "I loved him, Jason! I loved him with everything I had, and he didn't even hesitate! He wanted me gone!*"
Her hands trembled as she wiped the tears from her face, but the fire in her eyes burned fierce. "He will pay!"
Jason nodded, his own fury matching hers. "He won't get away with this, Vera. Not after what he did to you."
Her fingers curled into the sheets. "I'll expose him. I'll tear apart his secrets. I'll bring his world crumbling down, and I'll watch him drown in the consequences."
She turned to Jason then, her eyes dark with unrelenting hatred. "I need evidences."
The shift in her expression sent a chill down Jason's spine. The grief was still there, but it was eclipsed by something far more dangerous.
Hatred. Bitterness. A thirst for revenge.
Jason swallowed hard, his throat dry. "We'll get it," he assured her. But as he stared into her darkening gaze, he realized something.
This wasn't just about justice anymore. This was revenge.
Throughout her stay in the hospital, Stan had played the role of the devoted partner flawlessly. He rarely left her side, except when urgent calls pulled him to the office.
His presence was constant, his concern unwavering, yet every time he held her hand or whispered words of comfort, Vera felt nothing but cold dread beneath his touch.
She no longer trusted anything, not even the food placed before her. The hospital provided her meals, but she refused to eat them immediately. Each time, she insisted that the nurse take the first bite.
Stan had noticed.
"Why do you do that?" he had asked one evening, his sharp gaze studying her.
She had forced a weak smile, keeping her voice light. "I don't trust the nurses. You never know who might mix something in the food."
He had chuckled at her paranoia, shaking his head. But the truth was far darker.
She wasn't afraid of the nurses. She was afraid of him.
She had no doubt that if given the chance, he would try again. He had failed the first time, and now that she had survived, she was a liability. He needed her gone. But this time, she wouldn't be caught off guard.
A week later, the hospital discharged her. And just as she had expected, Stan insisted she move in with him for the time being, his excuse being that she needed care and supervision to fully recover. The same man who only allowed her to visit, during weekends, now insisted, she moved in. Quite Suspicious.
"That's dangerous," Jason had whispered urgently when she told him.
She knew. She knew exactly what she was walking into.
Stan's house wasn't a sanctuary anymore, it was a death trap. A place where she would always have to watch her back, where one wrong step could cost her life. But revenge had already sunk its claws into her, and she refused to let go.
With Jason's help, she had prepared herself for the dangers ahead. She wouldn't be a helpless victim this time. She had armed herself with hidden weapons, secret recording devices, and a mind sharpened by betrayal.
Stan had given her an overdose of those pills, expecting her to die. Now, she would give him an overdose of something far worse.
Revenge.