Lulu
July 3, 2024.- I was on my way to the photography studio in my husband, Scott’s company building. Walking with steady steps, I imagined his reaction upon receiving the knitted jumper I had made for him. Clutching the paper bag containing the gift tightly, a smile never left my face.
However, as I reached the studio door, my steps faltered. I was about to knock when I heard Scott’s voice from within. His tone was cold, and an unsettling feeling crept through my veins.
"Lulu doesn’t need to know what I’ve planned," he said.
I frowned. What did he mean? I stepped closer, holding my breath.
"Do you really think she’ll never find out?" Mylo, Scott’s best friend, sounded sharp. "Scott, this is madness. What you’re doing is a crime."
My heart pounded wildly. Pressing myself against the door, I tried to grasp the meaning of their conversation.
"I don’t care," Scott replied, his voice unwavering. "I didn’t marry Lulu out of love. It was all part of the plan. The evidence is clear—Peter took his own life because of her! I want Lulu to die slowly. Every heartbeat in her body exists only because I still grant her the chance to live."
The world seemed to stop turning. My breath hitched. I wanted to believe I had misheard him, but Scott’s voice was too clear, too real.
"And what about Leia?" Mylo pushed further. "Do you love her? No one truly knows why Peter ended his own life, do they? Even they mourned his passing."
Leia? Peter? My entire body froze. What had I just heard?
"You know why I did this," Scott said without hesitation. "Peter was everything to me. And Leia… Leia gave me the truth I needed."
Leia.
My stepcousin, the girl with an angelic smile and boundless compassion. Leia had always been the family’s darling—graceful and charming. But beneath it all, I never expected her to betray me. And now, I realised she had taken more from me than I had ever imagined.
The paper bag slipped from my trembling hands. My heart plummeted. Taking a step back, my whole body quivered. My chest tightened, as if all the air had been sucked from the room in an instant.
I had to leave.
I remembered how he once adored me, how he made me the centre of his world. “Lulu, you’re everything to me,” he had whispered one evening as we strolled along the River Thames. He always ensured I felt special, always by my side, making me believe I was the only woman in his life.
But everything had changed.
With hurried steps, I rushed out of the studio. Tears blurred my vision. My breath came in sharp gasps as I climbed into my car and started the engine.
Everything I thought I knew about my marriage was a lie. I was nothing more than a pawn in Scott’s twisted revenge.
I pressed down on the accelerator, but my hands were shaking violently. The beeping sound from the smartwatch on my wrist grew louder and faster. High Heart Rate flashed on the screen. I clutched my chest, feeling a crushing pain, as if an invisible hand was squeezing the life out of me.
I saw the red light too late.
"Bloody hell!"
A deafening crash hurled my body forward. The world spun. The shattering sound of glass filled my ears before everything faded into darkness.
***
When I woke, the sterile scent of antiseptic filled my nostrils. My head throbbed painfully, and every inch of my body ached.
I blinked against the harsh hospital lights on the ceiling. Then, I saw him.
Scott.
He sat beside my bed, holding my hand tightly. His eyes were red-rimmed, his face exhausted and filled with worry.
"Lulu," his voice was hoarse. "What happened? Why were you driving like that? You could have died!"
I stared at him. I should have hated him. I should have been furious. But all I felt was emptiness.
He lifted my hand to his lips, then pressed a kiss to my forehead. His lips trembled. "Don’t ever frighten me like that again. I can’t lose you."
He looked at me as though I was his entire world. As if I was the only thing that mattered to him.
But I knew better now.
What I didn’t understand was Scott’s connection to Peter.
I knew Peter.
He was one of the photographers who had exhibited his work at Seraphina Art Space, the gallery owned by the McCarthy family. We had grown close because Leia had introduced him to me as a photographer who had once taken her portraits. From that moment on, he often accompanied me on walks through the McCarthy mansion gardens every Sunday afternoon.
He knew about my heart condition. Again, because Leia had told him. The three of us would often chat whenever I visited the gallery. Leia loved photography, Peter had an incredible talent for capturing life in fleeting moments, and I—I was just a fortunate girl who had the chance to know them.
Peter was warm, kind. Anyone who saw us together would assume we had a special relationship. I had to keep denying it because, really, who would ever love a sick girl like me?
Scott?
His love was bloody rubbish.
I forced a weak smile. "I’m fine," I whispered.
Relief washed over his face. He leaned down, kissed me again, and whispered that he loved me, that I meant everything to him.
I let him believe that I was still his foolish wife, the one who blindly trusted him. I let him think I was still the naive woman trapped in his lies.
I studied Scott’s face, my mind racing with questions about his connection to Peter. Peter had never once mentioned Scott’s name in all our conversations. The thought made my head ache.
But Peter was gone now. And the only thing left was a man consumed by vengeance, determined to destroy me.
Oh God, what did I ever do to deserve this?
I wanted to ask Scott. I wanted to scream and demand answers. But doing so would shatter the resolve I had just built.
The moment Scott Byrne confessed his plans to me, he unknowingly sealed his fate.
With every beat of my heart, I would uncover the truth.
And in the end, I would destroy him in ways he never saw coming.
