My husband sta//bbed me twice just to defend his mistress over a tiny scratch. I woke up three days later in the ICU, but he had no idea that as I lay ble//eding out on our rug, I had secretly tapped ‘Record’ on my smartwatch...

Selina’s eyes darted frantically toward the door and then back to the security guards blocking her only exit. The polished, untouchable facade she usually wore instantly evaporated, replaced by genuine panic.

"Restraining... restraining order?" Selina stammered, her voice pitching upward in disbelief. "I didn't... nobody told me—"

"Detective Miller," Dr. Reed called out clearly, stepping aside to let a towering man in a sharp grey suit enter the room.

Detective Miller of the City Police Department flashed an official badge, his eyes cold and assessing as he locked onto Selina. "Ms. Selina Cole? I am Detective Miller. You are currently trespassing in a restricted medical facility, but more importantly, you are being detained for questioning in connection with the attempted homicide of Nora Vance, and conspiracy to commit murder."

"Conspiracy?!" Selina shrieked, taking a desperate step backward until her back hit the opposite wall. "Are you insane?! I didn't do anything! Julian did it! It was his knife, his hands! I was just standing there!"

Silence fell over the room like a lead weight.

Even the two security guards blinked in surprise at how quickly Selina threw Julian under the bus to save her own skin.

I let out a quiet, cold chuckle from the bed. I tapped my smartwatch on the bedside table, where the voice recording was paused right at the moment she had whispered: “We couldn't let her take everything from you.”

"Thank you for that lovely confession, Selina," I said smoothly, my voice carrying an icy edge that made her shudder. "Detective, I believe my lawyer, David Vance, already delivered a copy of the audio file to your precinct this morning. Did you happen to catch the part where Ms. Cole coached my husband into plunging a knife into my stomach?"

Detective Miller pulled a small digital recorder from his pocket, pressing play. The crisp, undeniable audio of Julian and Selina celebrating my presumed death echoed off the sterile hospital walls.

Selina stared at the recorder in absolute horror, her knees buckling beneath her. She grabbed onto the edge of a visitor's chair to keep from collapsing.

"You... you recorded that?" Selina whispered, her voice shaking violently. "You bitch... you set us up."

"No, Selina," I replied, my gaze locking onto hers with terrifying intensity. "You set yourselves up the moment you walked into my home and tried to destroy my life. Now, enjoy the handcuffs."

Detective Miller stepped forward, pulling a pair of cold steel cuffs from his belt. "Selina Cole, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."

As the cuffs clicked tightly around her delicate wrists, Selina screamed—not in sorrow, but in sheer, unadulterated rage—as the guards hauled her out of the room, dragging her past the nursing station and out of the hospital entirely.