THE PILOT’S EX WIFE

04

But just as our lips are about to meet, a sharp knock on the door breaks the spell, and Ettore steps away, leaving me suspended.

"I am leaving now. You and Ana will go with the driver later," he says as he exits the room.

As I step out of the bathroom, disappointment washes over me. Ettore hadn't even bothered to take the box on the bed. I untie the ribbon and open it, finding the gift still inside, untouched.

It's just another reminder of his indifference.

What a stupid girl I am, thinking that an almost kiss in the bathroom could mean something!

Someone opens the door, and for a moment, hope flickers within me, anticipating Ettore's return to collect the forgotten gift. But it's Ana who stands before me, extinguishing that flicker of hope with her mere presence.

Ana's party dress is a blue masterpiece of elegance and allure. Crafted from a luxurious fabric that seems to glide over her skin, the dress fits her curves perfectly.

"What do you want?" I ask, my brows furrowing in frustration.

I can't help but feel a sense of revulsion whenever I am in her presence, knowing that she's the cause of so much pain and turmoil in my life.

"Honestly? I want you to snap out of it and stop being a hindrance in my life," Ana retorts, her voice sharp as she gestures emphatically.

"How am I interfering in your life?"

"Your marriage to Ettore is a thorn in my side. So, let's cut to the chase, shall we? Ask for a divorce and vanish from his life," she replies.

"Why on earth would I do that?" I counter, my hands clenching into fists at my sides.

"So he can finally be with the woman he desires. Me," she sneers, her smirk infuriating as she steps closer, invading my space.

"If Ettore truly desired you, he would have ditched me ages ago."

"Is that what you believe?" she taunts, her gaze piercing as she closes the distance between us. "Is that why you turn a blind eye when I slip into his bed? Or wear his damn clothes?" Her smirk widens, a challenge in her eyes. "You know, Ettore even invited me to jet off with him next week. Picture this, baby, the two of us sipping wine in Italy for 15 glorious days," she continues, her words like daggers aimed at my heart.

"So it seems you've already got what you want. He's all yours," I retort, my voice cold as ice.

As I look at Ana, a wave of disgust washes over me. Despite her stunning appearance, there's something hollow about her beauty, something that feels manufactured and insincere. Every movement she makes feels calculated, every word she speaks tinged with underlying motives. It's as if she's wearing a mask.

"Exactly," she says, her tone triumphant as she takes another step forward, her confidence unwavering. "So do us all a favor and file for divorce, making way for my rightful place by Ettore's side. I may warm his bed, but I deserve to bear his name."

"If it were solely up to me, you'd never lay claim to that."

With a menacing sneer curling her lips, Ana leans in closer, her eyes gleaming with a calculated malice that sends a shiver down my spine. "Since you won't play ball," she hisses, each word dripping with venomous intent, "I will have to play dirty."

Her threat hangs heavy in the air as she strides towards the door, her movements deliberate and purposeful. With a swift motion, she grasps the doorknob, her fingers curling around it with a predatory grip.

I watch, frozen in disbelief, as she pulls the door shut with a forceful slam that reverberates through the room. The sound echoes in my ears.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Lizzie," her voice cuts through the silence like a blade, "but tonight will be the turning point in Ettore's decision."

As the latch clicks into place, sealing her intentions, a sinking feeling settles in the pit of my stomach.

I am trapped!

I run to the door and start knocking, the sound echoing down the empty hallway like a frantic drumbeat of desperation. "Help! Somebody, please!"

With trembling hands, I frantically search for my phone, panic rising in my chest like a tide of dread. But as I realize it's just out of reach, left behind in the kitchen, a surge of despair washes over me.

"Damn it!" I cry out.

I can't miss Ettore's birthday, not after everything we've been through. Not when we were so close to rekindling the spark between us just a few minutes ago!

My heart pounds frantically in my chest as I feel something wet and sticky between my legs. With trembling hands, I reach down, my fingers coming away slick with crimson, the metallic scent of blood filling the air.

God, why am I bleeding?

Horror washes over me as I realize what's happening, and I feel bile rise in my throat, threatening to choke me. The blood continues to flow, staining the pristine floor beneath me in dark, ominous streaks, a stark contrast against the polished surface.

My breath comes in ragged gasps. "Oh my god," I gasp, my voice trembling with shock and disbelief. "What's happening?"

The metallic tang of blood fills the air, mingling with the acrid scent of fear that clings to my skin. I stagger backward, my movements clumsy and uncoordinated.

"Jena!" I call out, my voice wavering with urgency. "Help me, please!"

But there's no response, only the eerie silence that seems to suffocate the room. Panic claws at my throat, threatening to choke me as I realize I am alone.

More blood trickles down my legs, the crimson hue stark against the pristine white.

I clutch at the doorframe for support, my fingers trembling as they graze the cold surface, seeking solace in its solidity.

"Please, someone help me!" My words echo back at me, hollow and empty, mocking my futile attempts to break free.

Tears blur my vision, mingling with the blood that stains my dress, a grotesque tableau of suffering and despair.

Weakness overtakes me, draining my strength until I can no longer stand. With a gasp, I collapse to the floor, my body trembling as waves of pain and nausea wash over me.

The cold tiles press against my cheek. Every breath feels like a struggle, each inhalation labored and shallow.

My fingers claw at the ground, searching for purchase, but find only cold, unyielding tile beneath them.

"Help... please," I manage to choke out, my voice barely a whisper against the overwhelming silence of the room.

And then, as the door creaks open and Jena's concerned face appears, a mixture of relief and terror floods my senses.

"Mrs. Del Vecchio!" Jena's voice is tinged with alarm, her eyes wide with worry.

But even as I reach out for her, darkness encroaches upon my vision, swallowing me whole in its suffocating embrace.

**

Seated in the dimly lit living room, I take a sip of the fragrant tea that Jena meticulously prepared, the warmth offering a fleeting comfort in the midst of the brewing storm.

Ding.

The sound echoes through the silent penthouse as the elevator reaches its destination, signaling an arrival in the dead of night. With a jolt, I rise from my seat, my heart pounding with apprehension, my mind still reeling from the events that unfolded earlier.

Stepping out of the elevator, a figure emerges from the shadows, and my stomach knots with dread as I recognize Ana's smug expression.

"You missed out on tonight. It was amazing," she taunts.

What a b***h!

"I didn't miss out. You trapped me!" I retort, my voice trembling with a mixture of anger and fear, the memories of her cruelty still fresh in my mind.

"Don't accuse me of something so serious. You probably fell asleep and forgot," she counters dismissively.

"I was ready! You cheated!" I lunge forward, propelled by a surge of raw emotion, my fists clenched in a futile attempt to reclaim some semblance of control.

Slap!

The sharp sting of Ana's hand across my cheek reverberates through the room, leaving a searing mark of humiliation that serves as a painful reminder of my vulnerability in this twisted game of power and manipulation.

"Do you dare raise your voice at me, you insolent b***h? Understand that there's a new ruler in this domain, and it's me. You will show me the reverence I deserve," she declares, her eyes ablaze with victorious malice, each word dripping with venom.