"Is that Damian?" she asked eagerly, and when she tried to stand up, the guard glared at her, so she crouched back down.
"Stay here," the guard said as he turned away and left.
Five minutes of suffering felt like five hours. She couldn't tell how many minutes she had spent in this dungeon of a prison, but excitement stirred in her chest at the thought that someone was finally coming to see her.
The one who came must be Damian.
He must have found out the truth and come to save her. Yes,it must be him. He was her husband. He couldn't just forget her. They had been married for five years.
She touched her belly and whispered,
"Little one, your daddy is coming."
The baby in her womb was still too young to respond, but it didn't matter. He would grow up with his mom and dad.
"Daddy will get us out of here," she said gently, stroking her belly, her back against the cold wall. She began to hum an old lullaby from her childhood, eyes fluttering shut as she dreamed of a better life.
Just then, the sound of clicking heels echoed on the floor slow and sharp. She listened carefully, trying to hear another set of footsteps, but there were none. The sound echoed through the corridor, from far away to just outside this cold cell.
A chill of premonition swept over her. Why isn't it Damian?
The scent that followed was too strong for her nostrils sharp, aggressive, and familiar.
"Hello, my dearest sister."
The pair of red heels stopped in front of her cell. She looked up, from toes to head only to stop at the glittering diamond necklace around the woman's neck. Her breath caught.
That necklace… it was the only possession their mother had left her.
And now, it was on her neck.
The woman standing in front of her, with heavy makeup and a smirk to match, wasn't just her sister she was her husband's mistress.
She was the one who destroyed everything.
"That's my necklace!" she shouted, standing up and glaring at her sister Ariella.
She reached through the cell bars, but Ariella swiftly stepped back, a vicious smile curling her lips.
"Now it belongs to me," Ariella said, her fingers brushing over the diamonds.
"Damian gave it to me."
"You're lying! Give back my necklace!" she roared, her voice shaking with rage.
"Not just your necklace… your husband is mine now," Ariella whispered, brushing her blonde hair to the side to reveal a bold, purple love bite on her neck.
"See? He was with me last night, while you were rotting in this stinking prison. We rolled in bed all night, giving each other pleasure."
"That's impossible! I need to see Damian!" she screamed, disbelief clashing with fury.
Is a four-year marriage that fragile?
Her voice echoed through the halls, attracting two jailers including the bald guard who had been watching her before.
"Open the cell," Ariella said coldly, "and shut this woman the fuck up."
They obeyed without hesitation. One slapped her hard across the face; the other gripped her shoulder and shoved her down, forcing her to kneel before Ariella.
Ariella stepped into the cell, wrinkling her nose in disgust. She flung a folded document at Rhea's feet.
Rhea stared down. Even in the dim light, she could make out two familiar signatures.
Ariella's voice dripped with triumph.
"Open your eyes and look. These are your execution orders signed by Damian and Father. You're going to die today."
Each word stabbed deeper than the last.
Her hands trembled as she picked up the paper. The weight of betrayal was heavier than the ink that bled across the page.
She remembered the day she signed her marriage certificate with Damian he held her hand, kissed her knuckles, promised forever. And now, that same hand had sentenced her to die.
Her husband.
Her own father.
How could they?
Even if her father had always been cold, she had tried to be a good daughter. She tried to earn his love. But now... both men had condemned her.
And Damian he didn't even come to see her before she died. He rushed everything.
Her body trembled as she pressed her palm to her stomach.
"I want to see Damian!" she screamed at the guards. "I'm pregnant with his child!"
Her voice echoed against the prison walls.
"No one can kill a pregnant woman carrying a Westwood child!"
Silence fell.
Even one of the other prisoners leaned forward, uncertainty on his face.
"If she's pregnant," he said, looking to Ariella, "we can't just kill her. If the boss finds out..."
"She's not pregnant at all," Ariella interrupted. "She's lying. If she was really pregnant, why didn't she tell Damian? She's just stalling for time. Kill her!"
"If you kill me, Damian will come after you. I warn you!"
Ariella frowned. She scanned her with her cunning blue eyes.
"Rhea, you killed my child. And it was Damian's child too. Even if you're pregnant, I'll pay a life with a life. It's still a good deal."
"You planned this! I didn't do that," she protested. "You framed me, Ariella! You did it!it was all you!"
"So?" Ariella sneered. "A witness already testified that you killed my child. And now you're a sinner. A murderer of the Westwood lineage."
A witness? Her body turned cold. That witness must have been brought by Ariella. This was a premeditated frame-up.
"I will let you die slowly," Ariella said, grabbing the dagger from one of the guards, approaching her slowly with a vicious smile.
"Is that why you wanted Damian to see you? Did you think that he'll forgive you if he knew you were pregnant? No that's impossible."
"Ariella, you can't hurt my baby," she begged desperately.
The dagger glinted in the dim light, and for a brief second, Rhea saw her own reflection in the blade afraid, broken, alone. Her knees buckled, and yet she stood.
She wouldn't beg again. If this was her end, she'd meet it with her spine straight, even if her heart was splintered.
"As you wish," Ariella muttered.
She stabbed her heart with the dagger. Rhea felt pain she had never experienced in her entire life it was fierce and unrelenting.
At the end of her life, she heard Ariella's final words:
"Men will always be men. They'll cheat even on their good wives."