I woke up in an all-white room, my head ached as I struggled to remember what happened. I looked around wondering where I was. The walls were spotless, the bed was sparkling. The air humidified and purified, a cool breeze blew from a corner and spread across the whole room. This must be heaven I thought.

You are awake Miss Summer” A stunning looking lady dressed in white approached me, her voice was soothing. She must be an angel I thought to myself as I stared at her in admiration, my eyes rolling with her movement.

That is when I noticed; the machines beeping steadily beside me, the syringe inserted into my arm and the stethoscope around her neck.

It all made sense now, I was in the hospital and the lady I thought was an angel is a doctor. but I was still clueless as to how I got here. I watched the doctor pressed a stethoscope to my chest, listening with rapt attention.

“You’re doing really well,” she said, flashing a smile. “Honestly, it’s a miracle.”

Pain flared up when I tried to move. “A miracle?” I managed to say, still trying to pull it all together.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Summer,” she murmured trying to get me to relax. “Just eat your food and get some sleep you will be fine.” She nodded toward a tray piled with food I will never order for myself. Not because it was bad but because it was looking too expensive.

My throat salivated, but a heavy burden pressed my chest. It was the environment.

“How did I end up here?” I asked scanning the environment again.

Before she could answer, someone burst in through the doorway.

“Summer! Oh, thank God!” The voice cried out. It was Edna.

She rushed to my bedside, nearly crushing me in a hug, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Emma, oh Emma,” she sobbed.

I didn’t hug her back. My eyes still darted around, panic slowly creeping in. I pulled her closer and whispered, “Which hospital is this?”

“Stephen Jones.” She replied.

My stomach dropped.

Stephen Jones Hospital was for the rich and famous. The kind of place where people brag about the bills. Why would Edna bring me here? Private room, too. Who was paying for all of this?

I looked around, heart hammering.

Edna saw the look on my face and tried to calm me down. “I didn’t bring you here,” she said, gentler. “Someone called me. Said you’d had an accident and that I should come to Stephen Jones.”

She squeezed my shoulder. “Summer, just focus on getting better. We’ll sort out the money stuff later.”

Then she frowned, like something just clicked. “Wait, where’s Ryan? Does he even know you’re here? Isn’t he your emergency contact?”

She started to rant, cursing Ryan, saying how much she hated him, louder than she needed to, honestly.

I stayed silent, listening, worried about the bills, but even more worried about how to tell Edna what had happened between Ryan and me. Once again, I hated to admit that she had been right all along and that I had been foolish.

“Edna,” I finally said, cutting her off, “Ryan’s not coming. I broke up with him.”

“Wait, really?” Her mood flipped instantly. “Spill!” She yelled almost immediately, like someone who was already drowning in suspense. “I wish I could’ve seen his face, I am pretty sure it would be shit,” she continued, grinning wickedly.

I didn’t want to disrupt her happy moment, I could see the satisfaction written over her face, I knew it would disappear if I told her the details of that night. “I’ll tell you later,” I said trying to skip the details for the moment.

“But right now, I need your help, I need to get my money back from Ryan”. I said not thinking of how my next sentence would affect her.

I watched her face twist in disgust. “Hold on. He has your money? Explain.” She yelled

I cringed. “We were saving together in a Joint account for the wedding and a vacation.” I said, embarrassed.

She gawked at me. “So he made you pay for your own wedding? Girl that's bullshit. Anyways, that is past now. Just get your share out and let’s pay these bills.”

I hesitated, heat crawling up my neck. “Well… I’m not actually a signatory to the account,” I muttered. “But don’t freak out, I’ll call him right now, ask for my cut.” I tried to salvage the situation.

Edna bit her upper lip in frustration, she looked like she wanted to scream, but she stayed quiet.

I grabbed my phone, hands shaking. “I’ll call him,” I said, sounding like a scolded kid.

I called Ryan’s number over and over. Nothing.

Checked his socials, he was online. Ignoring me.

I sent him a WhatsApp text: Ryan, I need my share of the money from the joint account. It’s an emergency.

Blue ticks indicating he read but No replies.

I took a picture of the drip and cannula and sent it to him, hoping it would prompt a response.

Still nothing.

Moments later, he updated his status. posted a short video of himself gifting Sylvia a Birkin bag.

The caption read: “You deserve the world, my love.”

I felt abused. The fact he gave zero concerns to my emergency.

I grabbed my phone, called him repeatedly across all mediums, determined to keep going until I got a response.

But at some point, the call stopped ringing.

He’d blocked me.

I developed cold feet as my eyes met Edna’s. “He blocked me,” I whispered, tears spilling hot down my cheeks.

I expected her to scold me, to say “I told you so.” but she didn’t. She just wrapped me in her arms, wiping my tears with her thumb. “Don’t let it bother you. You’ll get through it,” she said softly.

Right then, the doctor rushed back agitated. “Miss Summer! Are you alright?” She asked, coming closer to me.

I didn’t reply, just wiped my tears with my palm.

Her eyes landed on my untouched tray, she looked more anxious. “You haven’t eaten dear, tell me what the problem is?”

“I… I’m not going to eat,” I mumbled.

“Why? You don’t like it? We can get you something else,” she said, sounding almost desperate.

Who wouldn’t like this? I chuckled. “It’s not that. I just… I can’t pay for it.”

“Thank goodness!”. she heaved, relief washing over her face. “Everything’s already paid for, including your bills. Please, eat as much as you want and ask for more” she said, letting the heaviness off her chest.

“Really?” I said, barely believing it.

Edna’s face lit up. She let out a happy little gasp and grabbed the food tray.

“Who paid?”, I asked genuinely curious

The doctor shook her head. “It’s confidential dear, Just focus on getting better. That’s all that matters.” She replied softly before leaving.

The following week I was discharged, hale and hearty.

Edna drove me home. She insisted I stay with her since I couldn’t go back to Ryan. I agreed, no room for debate but first I had to stop by my old apartment to pick up my things.

The minute we pulled up at the gate, I saw my belongings, tossed at the entrance, drenched by the heavy rainfall.

At first I was in denial, not until Edna drove closer.

“No!” I yelled, running over under the drizzling rain. Everything was soaked, clothes, important documents, memories of my past I’d clung to.

I just stood there, sobbing in the rain.

Edna hurried over, wrapped her arms around me. “It’s okay, Summer. Be strong” she said, pulling me out of the rain.

I broke down even more. Edna did her best to console me in the car but I was drowned, soaked, rain mixed with tears, I thought about everything I’d lost.

Something inside me changed right then. I couldn’t quite explain it, but I knew I wasn’t the same woman anymore.

A non-challant revenge thirsty creature emerged and the world would feel it.

Stephen’s POV.

I am not the kind of man to leave my meal halfway especially when I am still unsatisfied. But for the sake of the Cheng group, I was about to abandon one of the most sought-after delicacies in New York: ‘Becca Throats,’ the queen of throat games.

Her nickname came from her infamous escapades of giving the best blow job in the city. It had taken me three and a half months, countless strings pulled, and a huge amount of money to book a session with her.

But it was all worth it when my hand gripped her soft silky hair, pulling her forward, while my eight inch rod was completely buried in her throat, choking the last breath out of her.

She gagged and choked struggling for her breath but I was just getting started. After all she was Becca the throat goat who prided herself in her reputation, she even swore to die with a dick in her mouth. So It wouldn’t be a bad idea if mine killed her. She even signs agreement stating her clients should not be held responsible if she eventually dies while being choked.

I was barely half way into my crazy adventure when Cole, my right hand man, knocked on the door. Ordinarily he wouldn’t dare interrupt my moments no one would unless it was an emergency. So hearing his knock I knew it was urgent. I quickly slipped out of Becca’s throat, leaving her coughing and gasping for air on the floor while I went to meet Cole at the door.

“It's the Cheng group!” he announced, his face bathing with sweat, like he ran miles to reach the door.

The moment I heard the Cheng name, the hairs in my body stood. I was anxiously to hear what would follow. “Yes… what about them?” I asked almost immediately.

“They are in town. They are giving us thirty minutes” Cole said. His tone hasty, he knew what was already at stake.

Without ado, I dived at my panties jumping over Becca who was still catching her breath on the floor. I hurried to get dressed not minding the fact that I was going to lose the session with Becca and it might take a very long time to get her back.

Meeting with the Cheng group was the only thing on my mind. I knew how important a partnership with them is to the Harris empire and I will be doomed to let anyone stop or even delay me for a second.

“I am driving” I said, stretching my hands to take the Ferrari keys from Tom, my personal driver.

Cole tried to dissuade me “That is not a good idea Mr Jones!”

But I was not going to listen, neither was I going to let Tom drive me. He has been strictly trained to never exceed the speed limit no matter what and today is not the day for rules.

Without saying a word, I hopped into the Ferrari and zoomed off leaving the other scrambling to catch up. It was a crazy ride and I knew the police will be after me in a short time but fuck it, The Cheng group comes first.

I pressed the accelerator harder, driving 140 kilometers per hour. The road was relatively clear, everything seemed to be going as planned until I heard a loud bang.

My Ferrari ran into another car coming from the opposite direction “what the hell?” I screamed, struggling to control the steering wheel as the car spun slightly before stopping. The airbag had already deployed, and the alarm started blaring loudly inside the car.

The sound triggered a bad memory because I had heard something like this before.

The situation felt strangely familiar like years ago, when I was taking little Mariah to school for the first time.

***

At the Harris mansion, the three years old Mariah Harris was fighting the decision to leave her mother for the first time and attend school.

“Uncle Stephen I want to stay with my mom, I don’t want to go to school” her tiny sad voice echoed.

I didn’t know what to say. I had never been good with children.

“Mariah lots of kids your age go to school, I am sure you make new friends in school.” I tried to convince her.

Hearing this, Mariah turned her face to another direction, she folded her arms and pouted her lips. “I don’t want other friends, I want my mummy” she said.

Just then Pamella Harris strode in, she saw me struggling with Mariah and tried to help, promising Mariah all the goodies she ever wanted.

But Mariah was adamant “I want my Mommy” she repeatedly said.

Then an idea struck me.

I took out an instant camera and asked Mariah to stand beside her mother for a picture. She held tightly onto Pamela’s leg while I snapped the photo and printed it out. I gave it to Pamela, and she kissed it before handing it to Mariah.

“Take this with you,” she said gently. “Whenever you miss me, you can look at it.”

That worked.

Mariah finally agreed and entered the car holding the photo like her life depended on it.

Along the way, she kept staring at it and whispering, “Mommy…”

I wanted her to focus on something else, so I leaned closer to take the photo.

“Mariah, let Uncle put the photo in your pocket so it won’t fall,” I said.

“Okay, Uncle,” she replied.

Just as I was about to tuck it into her pocket, I noticed something was wrong.

The car was speeding up.

“Hey! Slow down a bit, you are transporting a minor” I told the driver.

But he didn’t respond. Instead, he drove faster, pulling ahead of the escort vehicles behind us.

I was infruriated, I wanted to sack the driver immediately “Hey stop the car now!” I yelled frustratingly but the driver kept going,

Suddenly, he switched to a wrong direction, recklessly overtaking vehicles and heading to a dead end.

My chest tightened as I immediately called for back up. I reached out to the driver one more time. leaning closer and hoping he listens, “Stop this vehicle!” I shouted attempting to grab the steering wheel. It was chaotic as I struggled for the steering with the driver.

Mariah started screaming in fear as the car swerved left and right.

The driver managed to fight me off, gained full control of the steering wheel and headed straight to a gigantic tree on the road side.

I didn’t relent, squeezed the drivers neck while trying to control the car. I was almost finishing him off when something sharp hit my eyes.

Pepper spray!

I screamed, blinded instantly. Before I could process anything, something hard struck my head. Pain surged through me, and darkness started closing in.

The last thing I remember was Mariah scared eyes which will haunt me forever. “I am sorry!” I said weakly before passing out.