“Thank you, Marcus,” Elena said sincerely, “Without you, I might not have survived. Since God didn’t let me die, I will make that woman pay the price she deserves.” Elena turned her head, fighting back tears.
Marcus stood beside her, somewhat at a loss. He often came to visit this patient, even when she was mostly asleep. He still remembered the day five years ago when he first met Elena. The sky was overcast, with a steady drizzle, and the air was filled with the scent of wind and leaves. He was on his way to his secluded grandmother’s house when he saw an arm covered in blood sticking out of the soil. He dug furiously and revealed a woman with long, golden curly hair, bright red lips, and expensive jewelry on her body. The mixture of dirt and blood could not hide her beauty. Ignoring his rapidly pounding heart, he picked her up and ran to the hospital.
“I must save her,” Marcus vowed silently to himself, not only because of his duty as a doctor but also because of a slight affection he was not ready to admit.
“Mr. Marcus, help me out, please,” Elena’s voice brought Marcus back to the present. He looked at her lips moving and, without hesitation, answered, “Yes.”
Elena got up and walked to the hospital window, looking at the greenery outside. She picked up a hot drink that Marcus had prepared and slowly began, “Since that woman has taken my identity as ‘Elena’, Mr. Marcus, do you know how to perform plastic surgery?”
Meanwhile, Felix was playing with his building blocks. His mother, Elena, always took him to these social gatherings of the elite. “I’m not allowed to play games again,” Felix muttered under his breath, expressing his dissatisfaction with his mother. He looked at her chatting with the other ladies in the distance and then focused back on his toys. The sunlight in front of him was suddenly blocked, and he looked up to see a dignified woman sitting in front of him.
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The woman had long dark brown hair and was dressed in a black gown. Her hands were folded, holding a black chain handbag. “Hello, Felix,” she said in a gentle yet enchanting voice, “I’m Vespera. I would like to be your painting teacher. If you let me be your teacher, I can let you play games every day.”
Felix’s young mind couldn’t fathom why a stranger would approach him. He thought of his strict mother and then his beloved games. He furrowed his little brows, seemingly making a quick decision. Felix hopped off the chair, walked up to Vespera, and looked up with his little head, asking, “Really, I can play games? But why are you helping me?” Vespera’s lips curled slightly, and she gave a slight nod. “Of course,” she said, then lowered her voice to a whisper only she could hear, “For revenge.”
At the entrance of Damien’s villa, Vespera walked across a large expanse of grass, returning to a place once so familiar to her. The ‘Elena’ sitting in front of her had her legs crossed on the sofa, her right hand leisurely holding a cup of coffee, which she then sipped. After sizing up Vespera, she spoke with elegance and confidence, “You do have some charm, but I don’t care what your purpose is, nor how you managed to get close to my son and convince him to make you his painting teacher. Just do your job well, teach my son to paint properly, and behave. Otherwise, for people like us, wealthy and powerful, squashing you would be as easy as crushing an ant.” Vespera replied, “Yes, I graduated from an art academy. You can trust my skills.” Elena’s lips twitched upwards. “If it weren’t for the fact that I injured my hand saving my husband five years ago, leaving me unable to hold a paintbrush ever again, someone like you wouldn’t be fit to teach my son. You should know, before the injury, I was a renowned painter in the industry.” She waved her hand, indicating for Vespera to leave and return at the weekend to teach Felix to paint.
As Vespera was about to leave, Damien parked his car and walked into the villa. She watched from the side as the man she once deeply loved entered the house. Through the French windows, she saw him embrace ‘Elena’, his affection undiminished. Vespera couldn’t help but sneer softly, “Do you really know your wife, or have you been with her all along?”