ELARA'S POV
I stared at the text message until my eyes burned.
The sickness was fake. Thought you should know. - A Friend
My hands started shaking. I read it again. And again.
Fake?
Chloe's illness was fake?
No. That couldn't be right. Who would lie about dying? Who would fake a terminal illness just to steal someone's fiancé?
But even as I thought it, I knew the answer.
Chloe would.
I jumped off the motel bed and paced the tiny room. My mind raced with memories from the wedding. Chloe skipping down the aisle. Her bright smile. Her healthy glow. The way she danced at the reception without getting tired.
She didn't look sick at all.
I grabbed my phone and typed back: Who is this?
Three dots appeared. Someone was typing.
Then they disappeared.
No response.
"Come on!" I yelled at the phone. "Tell me who you are!"
Nothing.
I tried calling the number. It rang once, then went to a disconnected message.
I threw my phone on the bed and screamed into a pillow.
If Chloe lied about being sick, that meant everything was a trick. The tears. The hospital bracelet. The doctors' reports. All of it was planned.
She stole Liam on purpose.
And everyone helped her do it.
My stepmother. The family. Even Liam believed the lie.
Or did he?
A horrible thought crept into my mind. What if Liam knew? What if he was part of the plan all along?
No. He loved me. He said so himself.
But he also married someone else.
I needed proof. I needed to know the truth before I went crazy.
I grabbed my phone again and opened social media. My fingers found Chloe's profile before I could stop myself.
Her latest post was from two hours ago. A wedding photo. She and Liam stood together, smiling. The caption read: Best day of my life! Dreams really do come true! #Blessed #NewlyWeds #MiracleBride
Miracle bride? Was she seriously calling herself a miracle?
I scrolled through the comments.
So beautiful!
Congratulations!
What a touching story! So glad you got your wish before...
People felt sorry for her. They thought she was dying.
My finger hovered over the comment box. I could tell everyone the truth right now. I could expose her.
But would they believe me? Or would I look like a jealous ex trying to ruin a dying girl's happiness?
I clicked out of the app before I did something stupid.
My phone rang. A number I didn't recognize.
My heart jumped. Maybe it was the mysterious friend texting me earlier.
"Hello?" I answered quickly.
"Is this Elara Reed?" A woman's voice. Cold and professional.
"Yes. Who's this?"
"This is Karen Mitchell from Clearview Hospital. I'm calling about some paperwork that was submitted using your name."
I sat down on the bed. "What paperwork?"
"Medical records. Someone requested copies of patient files, claiming to be you. But when we tried to verify, the information didn't match. Do you know anything about this?"
"No, I... wait. What patient files?"
"I can't disclose that information. I'm just calling to confirm you didn't make this request."
"I didn't. I swear."
"Thank you. We'll handle it from here. Have a good day."
She hung up before I could ask more questions.
Someone used my name to get medical records?
My brain felt like it was going to explode. Nothing made sense.
I needed to talk to someone. Someone who knew Chloe. Someone who might know the truth.
I scrolled through my contacts and stopped at Jenny's name. Jenny worked with Chloe at the salon. They'd been friends for years.
I hit call.
"Hello?" Jenny sounded surprised. "Elara? Is that you?"
"Jenny, I need to ask you something. And I need you to be honest with me."
A pause. "Okay..."
"Is Chloe really sick?"
Another pause. Longer this time.
"Jenny, please. Just tell me the truth."
"I don't know," she finally said. "I mean, she told everyone she was dying. But I never saw her at any hospital appointments. And she's been eating normal food, going to parties, posting on social media constantly..."
"So you think she's lying too?"
"I didn't say that! Maybe she's just having good days. Sick people can have good days, right?"
"Not people with terminal illnesses. Not people who only have months to live."
Jenny went quiet.
"Has she mentioned doctors?" I pressed. "Treatments? Anything medical at all?"
"No. Actually, now that you mention it... she mostly talks about Liam. About the wedding. About being married. She never talks about being sick."
My blood ran cold. "Thank you, Jenny. That's all I needed to know."
"Elara, wait—"
I hung up.
It was true. Chloe faked everything.
But how could I prove it? How could I make everyone see what I saw?
A knock on my motel room door made me jump.
I wasn't expecting anyone. Nobody knew I was here.
"Who is it?" I called out.
No answer.
Another knock. Harder this time.
I looked through the peephole. A man stood outside. Tall. Dark hair. Expensive suit.
I'd never seen him before in my life.
"I'm not interested in whatever you're selling," I said through the door.
"I'm not selling anything, Miss Reed." His voice was deep and calm. "I have information about your stepsister. Information you need to hear."
My hand froze on the doorknob. "How do you know my name?"
"I know a lot of things. Like the fact that Chloe Reedhas never been sick a day in her life. Like the fact that she paid a doctor five thousand dollars to fake medical records. Like the fact that she's been planning to steal Liam from you for over a year."
My heart stopped.
"Who are you?" I whispered.
"Someone who can help you. But only if you open this door in the next ten seconds. After that, I walk away, and you'll never know the truth."
I pressed my forehead against the door. This could be a trap. This could be dangerous.
But what did I have to lose?
I unlocked the door and pulled it open.
The man stood there with a folder in his hand. Up close, he was even more striking. Sharp jawline. Gray eyes that seemed to see right through me.
"Hello, Elara," he said. "My name is Kaelan Vance. And I'm here to offer you revenge."
He held out the folder.
I took it with trembling hands and opened it.
Inside were medical records. Real ones. Lab results. Doctor's notes.
All of them showed the same thing: Chloe was perfectly healthy.
"Where did you get these?" I breathed.
"I have my ways. The question is, what are you going to do with them?"
I looked up at him. "Who are you really? Why are you helping me?"
A small smile crossed his face. "Let's just say your stepmother's family and I have... history. Bad history. When I heard what they did to you, I saw an opportunity."
"An opportunity for what?"
"To destroy them. Completely. Utterly. In a way they'll never recover from."
He stepped closer. His gray eyes locked onto mine.
"I can give you everything you need to expose Chloe. I can give you money, resources, connections. I can teach you how to become powerful enough that they'll regret ever crossing you. But I need something from you in return."
"What?" My voice barely worked.
"One year of your life. Work for me. Let me transform you. And when the time is right, we'll take them down together."
This was crazy. I didn't know this man. This could all be a lie, just like Chloe's sickness.
But when I looked at the medical records in my hands, when I thought about Chloe wearing my dress and kissing my fiancé, when I remembered my stepmother throwing me out...
Something dark and angry rose up inside me.
"What exactly would I have to do?" I asked.
Kaelan's smile grew wider.
"Everything I tell you. No questions. No complaints. You'll work at my company. You'll train. You'll learn. And when you're ready, you'll face them again—not as a victim, but as a force they can't ignore."
"And what do you get out of this?"
"The satisfaction of watching your family lose everything. Trust me, that's payment enough."
I stared at the folder. At the proof of Chloe's lies.
I had two choices.
I could walk away. Start over somewhere new. Forget all of this ever happened.
Or I could take his hand and become someone strong enough to make them all pay.
"I need to think about it," I said.
"You have until tomorrow morning. Meet me at this address at 8 AM if you want my help." He handed me a business card. "Don't be late. I don't give second chances."
He turned and walked away, leaving me standing in the doorway of my cheap motel room, holding proof that my whole life was built on lies.
I looked down at the card.
Kaelan Vance, CEO - Vance Tech Industries
Tomorrow morning. 8 AM.
One decision that would change everything.
I closed the door and locked it.
Then I looked at myself in the mirror.
The broken
girl staring back at me was tired of crying.
She was tired of being weak.
She was ready to become someone new.
Someone dangerous.