Chapter 15 Haunting A Spoiled Brat
Bella’s POV
She suddenly tried to run out of the room but I didn't give her a chance to breathe. I lunged forward, grabbing her wrist with a grip so tight I could feel her pulse thundering like a trapped bird. I leaned in close, my face inches from hers, my eyes bore into hers with a fierce, unforgiving light.
"Why did you do it, Sasha?" I hissed, my voice echoing off the marble walls like a curse. "Why did you and Lucas kill me? Was the money worth it? Was the empire worth my blood?"
“Ahhhhh!!!” Sasha let out another blood curdling scream, a sound of pure fear. She began to struggle, her high heels skidding on the wet floor as she tried to pull away from me. Her face was deathly pale and sweat broke out on her forehead.
"No! No! You're dead!" she shrieked, her voice cracking hysterically. "You're a ghost! You're not real! Leave me alone!"
I tightened my grip, enjoying the way she flinched. "I'm very real, Sasha. And I'm never leaving you. I'll be in every shadow, every mirror, and every dream until you join me in the dark."
With a final, desperate surge of strength fueled by sheer terror, Sasha yanked her arm back. She stumbled away from me, her eyes fixed on my face as if she were looking at the devil himself. She didn't even stop to pick up her purse, she just turned and scrambled toward the door, tripping over her own feet in her haste to escape.
"GHOST! SHE'S A GHOST! BELLA IS HERE!" she screamed at the top of her lungs as she burst out into the hallway.
I didn't waste a second and quickly pulled the skin mask back out and pressed it onto my face, smoothing the edges with practiced precision. By the time I stepped back out into the corridor, I was an unrecognizable stranger once again.
I moved quickly toward the VIP lounge where Naomi and Lyra were waiting. They were already standing near the railing, looking down at the main floor with amused expressions. I joined them, leaning against the cold metal bar as we watched the drama unfold below.
Sasha was a mess, she had rushed down the grand staircase, ignoring the people she knocked aside. She reached the center of the dance floor, spinning in circles, her hair matted with sweat and her dress disheveled. She was screaming hysterically, her arms flailing as she pointed at nothing.
"STOP HAUNTING ME!" she wailed, her voice rising above the thumping bass of the music. "I wasn't the one who killed you, Bella!! It wasn't me! Just leave me alone! Please!"
The music didn't stop, but the crowd did. A circle formed around her, but not out of concern. I saw dozens of glowing screens rise into the air. The club-goers were already filming, their faces lit up by the glare of their phones. Some were laughing, others were whispering, and I could see the red "LIVE" icons flickering on several screens.
"Look at her," Lyra whispered beside me, a smirk on her face. "She's doing all our work for us."
I watched Sasha collapse to her knees in the middle of the floor. She was trembling violently, her eyes darting around the room as if she expected me to manifest from out of nowhere.
"She's dead... she's dead but she's here..." Sasha sobbed, her voice filled the place. "She touched me... her hand was so cold..."
I felt a surge of satisfaction as I looked at the girl who had mocked my "boring" life and had toasted to my death. Now, she was a laughingstock, a viral sensation of madness. Lucas had spent fifty million dollars and used the Mayor’s entire cyber-team to bury her previous scandal. He had even renovated an orphanage and bought off every media house in the city to make her look like a saint.
And in five minutes of drunken terror, she had burnt all of it to the ground.
"She's saying it wasn't her, which means she knows who was responsible," Naomi noted, her eyes sharp and calculating. "The public won't forget that, even if they think she's just a 'crazy drunk,' the seed of doubt is planted. 'It wasn't me.' That's going to be the headline of the century and people will try to find out who the one responsible is."
Sasha was still on the floor, yelling hysterically at the air, her voice becoming hoarse. "GET AWAY FROM ME! BELLA, PLEASE! I'll tell the truth! Just don't take me with you!"
Finally, her lead bodyguard, a massive man I recognized from the Moretti mansion, pushed through the crowd. His face was a mask of pure embarrassment and fury. He tried to grab Sasha’s arm to help her up, but she shrieked and kicked at him, convinced he was another ghost.
"Miss Sasha, stop this! We have to leave!" the guard growled.
"NO! SHE'S STANDING RIGHT BEHIND YOU!" Sasha screamed, her eyes fixated on the space behind the guard.
The guard didn't hesitate, he knew he couldn't reason with her, and he knew every second she spent in that room was costing the Moretti family millions in reputation damage. He swung a swift, controlled blow to her neck. Sasha’s head snapped back, and her body went limp instantly.
The crowd let out a collective gasp as the guard scooped her up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He moved toward the exit, his head down, trying to shield her face from the cameras that followed his every move.
I leaned back against the railing, a cold, triumphant smile spreading across my face. The music started up again, but the atmosphere in the club had changed. The air was filled with gossip. People were already huddled over their phones, editing the videos, adding captions, and tagging every major news outlet in the country.
"By tomorrow morning," I said, my voice low and steady, "the 'Moretti Miracle' will be dead. And Sasha will be the most famous lunatic in the city."
"And Lucas?" Naomi asked, looking at me.
"Lucas will be in hell," I replied,as I felt a burning excitement. I hadn't even touched him yet, and his world was already starting to crumble. He had tried to delete me from existence, to act as if I were a minor inconvenience he had successfully handled.
But tonight, through his own sister’s mouth, the world had heard the truth. I wasn't just a dead wife. I was a ghost that was going to haunt him until there was nothing left of the Moretti name but ash.
"Let's go," I told Naomi and Lyra. "I've seen enough, I want to be home to watch the stock market crash in the morning."
As we walked out of the club, I felt lighter than I had in years. The weight of the "Bella" persona was gone and I was fully Eva now. And the Morettis had no idea that the nightmare they were about to start living was only the first chapter of my revenge.