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Happy Ann NM

Started 22h ago

For two years, she tamed her sharp edges and played the role of a dutiful, obedient wife, quietly enduring the disdain and humiliation of high society solely to appease her husband’s family. Yet with her gift of foresight, she chanced upon her husband embracing his mistress, only to be mocked as a crude country nobody—all her quiet sacrifices reduced to nothing but a bitter joke. ===== Chapter 1 Elena pressed her index finger against the cardboard. The Tower. The heavy oak table vibrated, a low hum that rattled the crystal ashtray. Sloane stopped breathing. The screen of Sloane's phone lit up on the table. The GPS tracking dot blinked red. It aligned perfectly with the invisible rune Elena had just traced on the wood. Sloane's hands started to shake. Elena picked up her martini glass. She took a slow sip. The cold liquid burned down her throat, masking the brief flash of golden light that flickered in her dark eyes. "Go," Elena said. Sloane snatched her Birkin bag from the chair. Her heels slammed against the hardwood floor, a rapid, violent rhythm that echoed her rage. Elena set her glass down and followed. The brass doors of The Obsidian c**b were heavy. The bass from the music inside hit Elena's ch**t the second they pulled them open. The c**b manager stepped in front of them. He opened his mouth to ask for a reservation. Sloane shoved a black American Express card directly into his ch**t. The manager's annoyed expression vanished. He plastered on a fake smile and stepped aside. They walked down the dark corridor. Neon laser lights sliced through the sm**e, flashing across Elena's pale face. She hated this place. The air smelled like cheap sweat and expensive mistakes. Sloane ran. She didn't care about the music or the crowd. She headed straight for the VIP section. Elena walked behind her, her pace steady. Sloane hit the door of room V03 with both hands. It crashed open. A woman screamed inside. Sloane lunged forward, her hands flying toward her cheating fiancé. Elena stopped in the hallway. She didn't go in. A different scent cut through the smell of al**hol and sm**e. Cedar and bergamot. Andrew's cologne. Elena's stomach tightened. The muscles in her abdomen contracted so hard it hurt. She turned her head. At the end of the corridor was a semi-open terrace. The night wind blew in, catching the bottom of her cheap beige trench coat. She walked toward the wind. Heavy velvet curtains separated the terrace from the hallway. They were drawn almost completely shut, leaving only a narrow gap. Elena looked through the gap. A tall man stood by the railing. Andrew. Her husband. His arm was wrapped around a woman's waist. The woman was small. Fragile. She leaned her entire body weight against his ch**t. A sharp pain flared in Elena's ch**t, stealing the air from her lungs. The woman turned her head. Kaitlynn. Elena's fingers gripped her small clutch. She squeezed the leather until her knuckles turned completely white. The joints ached. Kaitlynn looked up at Andrew. Tears spilled over her eyelashes and rolled down her cheeks. She cried about how lonely she was during her art therapy trip in Europe. Andrew reached into his pocket. He pulled out a silk handkerchief and wiped her tears. His touch was gentle. Elena moved her foot. She wanted to speak. "I'll fix it," Andrew said. His voice was low. Elena froze. Her breathing sped up, the cold air scraping her throat. Kaitlynn sniffled. "I don't want to ruin your marriage, Andrew. I feel so guilty." Andrew let out a harsh laugh. "She's an Appalachian hillbilly, Kaitlynn. She doesn't belong here." The words hit Elena like a physical blow to the stomach. Bile rose in her throat. "I only married her to get my grandfather off my back," Andrew continued. Kaitlynn buried her face in his shirt. Elena saw the corner of Kaitlynn's mouth twitch upward into a smirk. Elena's fingernails dug into the palms of her hands. The sharp sting of her own skin breaking grounded her. Two years of cooking his meals, ironing his shirts, and swallowing the insults of his friends. It was all a joke. "The lawyers are drafting the divorce papers," Andrew promised, his hand st**king Kaitlynn's hair. "Next week, she'll be out of New York for good." Kaitlynn threw her arms around his neck. She pressed her body flush against his. Elena felt nauseous. Her throat closed up. She closed her eyes. She forced air into her lungs. One breath. Two breaths. When she opened her eyes, the pain was gone. Only ice remained. The wind picked up. The heavy velvet curtain flapped loudly against the wall. Andrew's head snapped toward the gap. Elena didn't hide. She reached out and grabbed the thick velvet fabric. She ripped the curtain open. The dim light from the hallway hit her face. She stood there, completely expressionless. Andrew dropped his arm. Panic flashed in his eyes for a fraction of a second. Then, his jaw clenched, and the panic morphed into deep annoyance. Kaitlynn gasped. She shrank behind Andrew, her hands gripping the fabric of his suit jacket like a terrified child. But her eyes, staring at Elena from behind his shoulder, were full of defiance. Andrew adjusted his cuffs. He glared at Elena. "What are you doing here?" he snapped. "Are you stalking me?" Elena let out a short, cold laugh. She looked at his hands, then at Kaitlynn's clinging fingers. "If you two are going to cheat," Elena said, her voice flat and loud enough to cut through the wind, "you could at least pick a place that doesn't smell like a public restroom." Chapter 2 Andrew's face turned red. He dropped Kaitlynn's hand and took a heavy step forward. His large frame blocked the light, casting a dark shadow over Elena. Elena didn't move a single inch. She kept her chin up. Her eyes dragged up and down his body, looking at him the way someone looks at a piece of tr**h on the sidewalk. Kaitlynn pulled on the hem of Andrew's jacket. "Andrew, please," Kaitlynn whimpered, her voice trembling. "Don't fight with your wife because of me. It's my fault." Andrew reached back and grabbed Kaitlynn's hand, squeezing it to comfort her. He turned his glare back to Elena. "Did you hire a private investigator?" Andrew demanded. His voice was loud, echoing off the brick walls of the terrace. "Are you out of your mind?" Elena found the accusation hilarious. A cold smirk pulled at the corner of her mouth. "I don't need a private investigator, Andrew," Elena said. "That cheap perfume she's wearing reeks from three blocks away." Kaitlynn's body stiffened. Her fake tears stopped. It was a limited-edition fragrance. Andrew stepped closer. The veins in his neck popped. "Go back to the country house, Elena," he ordered. "Stop embarrassing yourself in public." Elena opened her clutch. She pulled out a wet wipe. She slowly, deliberately wiped the fingers that had just touched the velvet curtain. She wiped them as if she had touched a dead rat. Andrew saw the gesture. His pride shattered. He lunged forward and reached for her wrist. Elena shifted her weight. She turned her shoulder, and Andrew's hand grabbed empty air. He stumbled forward, his expensive leather shoes slipping slightly on the concrete. Kaitlynn let out a high-pitched g**p. She rushed forward and grabbed Andrew's arm, pressing her ch**t against his bicep to steady him. Elena threw the used wet wipe into a nearby tr**h can. "Since you're in such a rush to make room for your little saint," Elena said, her voice devoid of any emotion, "I'll make it easy for you." Andrew froze. He stood up straight. He expected her to cry. He expected her to beg him to stay. He let out a mocking scoff. "Is this your new strategy?" Andrew sneered. "Playing hard to get so you can squeeze more alimony out of me?" Elena's eyes darkened. She took one step forward. The sudden shift in her energy was physical. The air around her seemed to drop ten degrees. Andrew actually took a half-step backward before he realized what he was doing. "Tomorrow morning. Nine o'clock," Elena said, her words sharp as broken glass. "Tell your lawyer to bring the papers to me." Kaitlynn's eyes widened with pure joy, but she quickly covered her mouth with her hand, pretending to be shocked. Andrew's jaw tightened. He hated being given orders. "You won't get a single dime from the Macdonald family," he spat. "Keep your di**y money," Elena said. "Just make sure I never have to look at your face again." Footsteps pounded against the floorboards behind them. Sloane marched onto the terrace. Her hair was slightly messy, but her eyes were wild with adrenaline. She saw Andrew and Kaitlynn clutching each other. "You absolute piece of ga**age," Sloane yelled at Andrew. Andrew recognized her immediately. The heiress to the Astor-Vance fortune. His arrogant expression slipped. "Sloane, this is a misunderstanding," Andrew started to say. Sloane didn't listen. She pulled out her phone, raised it, and started snapping pictures. The bright flash fired repeatedly, blinding them in the dim light. Kaitlynn shrieked and hid her face against Andrew's ch**t. "Delete those!" Kaitlynn screamed. "If you're brave enough to spread your legs, you should be brave enough for a photo," Sloane fired back. Andrew lunged at Sloane to grab the phone. Elena moved faster. Her hand shot out, her fingers precisely finding the pressure point on his wrist. She pressed hard against the nerve. Andrew gasped. A sharp, blinding numbness shot up his arm, instantly sapping his strength. He tried to pull away, but his muscles completely gave out under her targeted technique. It felt like a sudden, localized paralysis. "Show some respect," Elena warned, her voice a low, dangerous wh**per. She shoved his arm back. Andrew stumbled back, grabbing his aching wrist. He stared at her, completely shocked by the raw physical power she just displayed. Elena grabbed Sloane's arm. They turned their backs on the couple. Elena's heels clicked against the floor, a steady, unbothered rhythm as she walked away. Andrew stood on the terrace, rubbing his throbbing wrist. He stared at the empty doorway. A cold knot of confusion formed in his stomach. The quiet, submissive woman he married was gone. Chapter 3 Elena and Sloane walked into the main VIP lobby. A group of men blocked their path. Jett, Andrew's best friend, stood in the center. He held a half-empty glass of wh**key. His face was flushed with al**hol. "Well, well," Jett slurred, a nasty grin on his face. "Is the country mouse throwing another tantrum?" The other rich kids in the group laughed. They looked at Elena's beige coat with obvious disgust. Andrew and Kaitlynn rushed into the lobby from the hallway. Andrew didn't tell his friends to stop. He just stood there, crossing his arms. Kaitlynn peeked out from behind Jett's shoulder. "Guys, please don't be mean to Elena," Kaitlynn said softly. "She's just upset." Sloane's face turned red with anger. She stepped forward to scream at them. Elena raised her hand and placed it flat against Sloane's ch**t, stopping her. Elena gave her a single, calm look. Sloane stepped back. Elena turned her attention to Kaitlynn. "Did you enjoy your art therapy in Europe, Kaitlynn?" Elena asked. Her voice was loud enough for the entire lobby to hear. The laughter died down. Kaitlynn's smile stiffened. "Yes. The scenery was very healing for my soul." Elena took a slow step forward. "The scenery around Lake Geneva is beautiful," Elena said. "Especially near that private medical clinic hidden in the mountains." Kaitlynn stopped breathing. Her pupils dilated. Her fingers lost their grip, and her expensive clutch slipped, hitting the marble floor with a loud smack. Andrew frowned. He looked at Elena. "What the h**l are you talking about? Shut up." Elena ignored him. She kept her eyes locked on Kaitlynn. "Dr. Hoffman is a true professional, isn't he?" Elena asked. Kaitlynn's face turned completely white. She started shaking. "You're crazy!" Kaitlynn screamed. "She's making things up! She's lying!" Jett stepped in front of Kaitlynn, pointing his finger inches from Elena's face. "You jealous bi**h," Jett spat. "You can't stand that Kaitlynn is pure and Andrew actually loves her." Elena didn't blink. She looked at Jett's pointing finger, then back to Kaitlynn. "If she's so pure," Elena said, her voice dropping to a deadly calm, "why did she need a surgical procedure to remove a six-week-old embryo?" Dead silence. The music from the c**b seemed to fade away. Everyone in the lobby stared at Kaitlynn. Andrew looked like he had been struck by lightning. His mouth opened slightly. He slowly turned his head to look at Kaitlynn. "Kaitlynn?" Andrew whispered. Kaitlynn grabbed Andrew's arm. Tears poured down her face. "She's lying! Andrew, she's trying to ruin me!" Elena crossed her arms over her ch**t. "The spirits show me a very clear picture of a white building near Lake Geneva," Elena said smoothly, her eyes unblinking. "I see a heavy door with the number four on it. And a bank statement, fluttering in the wind, with the final numbers 8802." Kaitlynn's knees gave out. She collapsed onto the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. The details were classified. No one could possibly know them. Andrew stared at the woman crying on the floor. His ch**t heaved. For the first time in two years, doubt crept into his eyes. Jett's face turned purple with rage. "You hired a hacker!" Jett yelled. "You stole her medical records! That's a federal crime!" Elena slowly turned her gaze to Jett. "Just like the massive mess you are currently hiding from your father?" Elena asked, her voice dropping to a chilling wh**per. "You better clean up your own backyard, Jett. Those Vegas debts won't stay buried forever." Jett choked. The sound died in his throat. His face drained of all color, terrified by her vague but terrifyingly accurate warning. He looked like he was going to vomit. The people standing next to him shifted uncomfortably. Elena brushed a piece of imaginary lint off her sleeve. She looked at the group of stunned, terrified people. She looked at Andrew one last time. "You treat a liar carrying another man's mistake like a treasure," Elena said. "You're pathetic." Elena grabbed Sloane's hand. They walked through the crowd. No one dared to stop them. As they pushed open the front doors of the c**b, Elena heard Kaitlynn's hysterical sobbing and Andrew's frustrated shout echoing in the lobby. She didn't look back. Chapter 4 The cold night air hit Elena's face. She stood on the curb with Sloane, waiting for the valet to bring the car. Heavy, frantic footsteps sl**ped against the pavement behind them. Elena turned her head. Jett charged out of the c**b doors. His eyes were bl**dshot. He held the half-empty wh**key bottle by the neck. "You ruined her!" Jett screamed, spit flying from his mouth. He raised the heavy glass bottle high above his head and swung it directly at Elena's face. Sloane shrieked and covered her head. Elena didn't flinch. As the bottle came down, Elena shifted her weight to her left foot. She tilted her upper body just enough. The bottle sliced through the empty air, missing her nose by an inch. Elena simply stepped smoothly to the side. As Jett's momentum carried him recklessly forward, Elena's foot subtly hooked behind his ankle. Jett lost his footing entirely. He tripped over his own feet, his arms flailing wildly as he crashed down hard onto the curb. A loud pop echoed in the quiet street as his shoulder hit the concrete at an unnatural angle. Jett let out a deafening scream. His fingers opened, and the wh**key bottle shattered against the concrete, spraying glass and al**hol everywhere. He folded in half like a piece of paper, clutching his dislocated shoulder. Jett collapsed into the puddle of wh**key and broken glass. Andrew ran out of the c**b just in time to see Jett hit the ground. He stopped dead in his tracks. He stared at Elena, his brain unable to process what he just saw. "Are you insane?" Andrew roared, running over to Jett. "You're a violent psycho!" Elena reached into her pocket and pulled out a tissue. She wiped the hand that had touched Jett's wrist. "He attacked me with a weapon," Elena said, her voice completely flat. "It's called self-defense." "I'm calling the police!" Andrew yelled, pulling out his phone. "I'm going to lock you up!" Elena pointed a single finger up at the streetlamp. "There's a security camera right there," Elena said. "Call them. But if the police show up, I'll make sure they look into Jett's missing two million dollars while they're at it." Andrew's thumb froze over the screen. He looked at the camera, then down at Jett, who was still groaning on the ground. He slowly lowered his phone. The valet pulled Sloane's black Porsche up to the curb. Elena walked over and opened the passenger door. Andrew suddenly stepped forward and slammed his hand flat against the top of the door, stopping her from getting in. He stared at her face, searching for the weak, quiet girl he thought he knew. Elena met his gaze. Her eyes were dark, cold, and entirely empty of the love she used to fake for him. A sharp pain hit Andrew's ch**t. He ignored it. "Don't play games tomorrow," Andrew warned through gritted teeth. "Sign the papers." "Bring them at nine," Elena said. She looked at his forehead. A faint, greyish shadow hovered over his skin. "And Andrew," Elena added, her tone shifting to something eerie and serious. "Stay away from large bodies of water. Or it will k**l you." Andrew scoffed, a harsh sound of disbelief. "Save your cheap curses for someone who cares." Elena sl**ped his hand off the car door. She slid into the leather seat and pulled the door shut with a loud slam. Sloane hit the gas. The Porsche engine roared, leaving Andrew standing on the curb next to his vomiting friend. Inside the car, Sloane hit the steering wheel with her palms. "That was incredible!" Sloane yelled. "Did you see his face? You broke Jett in half!" Elena leaned her head back against the headrest. She watched the city lights blur past the window. Her ch**t felt light. The suffocating weight of the Macdonald family was finally gone. She pulled out her phone. She opened her contacts. With a few quick taps, she blocked Andrew's number. Then Jett's. Then Beatrice's. She deleted her entire past. Back on the street, Andrew watched the red taillights of the Porsche disappear. His heart beat too fast. A strange, suffocating panic gripped his throat. Kaitlynn walked out of the c**b. She reached out to touch his arm. Andrew flinched. He pulled his arm away, taking a step back from her. &3&

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Murat Uyaan

Started 22h ago

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