My ex-husband’s nightmare (Lydia and Mason) novel Chapter 183

**TITLE: Worst Fear 183**

**Chapter 183**

**Victoria**

The vase struck her head with a sickening thud before it exploded into a million shards on the floor. Fragments of glass scattered like tiny stars across the ground.

A sharp gasp escaped my lips as I took in the scene before me. Blood oozed from Julia’s wound, pooling ominously around her. My heart raced, thundering in my chest as I hurried to her side, each step weighed down by dread.

Blood flowed steadily from her head, a crimson stream that seemed to defy gravity. Her eyes, though open, were clouded and dim, barely clinging to consciousness.

This was not how it was supposed to unfold. A bleeding Julia was a twist I hadn’t anticipated, but in a world where chaos ruled, I had to adapt.

My initial surge of panic morphed into a cold resolve; there was no time to lament over what was done. I couldn’t afford to check for a pulse or confirm her fate.

I had to act swiftly; though the plan had shifted, I could still maneuver the blame towards Lydia.

With trembling fingers, I dialed Bethany, one of the waitstaff I had enlisted for the night. When she arrived and saw Julia, her expression didn’t falter; she simply followed my lead, her eyes wide but unyielding.

Together, we hoisted Julia’s limp body and made our way to the balcony rails. With a swift, calculated motion, we let her fall, her form disappearing from view.

I didn’t linger in the room for even a second longer. I had invested a small fortune in hiring five waiters, enough to secure their loyalty for a lifetime, and they sprang into action the moment I departed.

Before I had entered the room, I had ensured the CCTV cameras in the hallway were disabled. I reached my car, adrenaline still coursing through my veins, only to remember my laptop. Reluctantly, I had to return for it.

There was no evidence that could trace back to me. No one knew I had been there. Yet, that night, sleep eluded me when I received the text that Julia was still alive.

Just how resilient can a person be? I tossed and turned in my bed, anxiety gnawing at me.

The last time I felt this kind of dread was two decades ago.

***

I splashed cold water on my face, the chill snapping me back to reality. As I lifted my head, my hair fell in damp strands over my shoulders. Water droplets trickled down my cheeks, mingling with my unease.

I inhaled deeply, hoping for a single phone call, one piece of news that would grant me peace. I wiped the fog from the bathroom mirror and closed my eyes, whispering to myself, “She won’t survive the surgery. She fell from a great height.”

That fall should have been enough to extinguish anyone’s life. Julia had been in surgery for over fifteen hours. If she was still under the knife, it indicated a grim prognosis.

I opened my eyes and, with trembling hands, ran my fingers through my hair, muttering reassurances that I would be alright. I had my people in the hospital; surely, I would receive a call confirming her demise.

**10:40 Thu, Nov 27 G**

**Chapter 183**

I steadied myself, resting a hand on my chest, counting each breath.

As I turned to leave, my gaze fell upon the basket where the dress I had worn lay, stained and tainted.

This endeavor had cost me dearly, and the thought of it failing was intolerable. Securing that dress had been an uphill battle; it had already been sold, and I had to pay a premium to reclaim it from the original buyer.

Gazing at the bloodstain on the fabric, a sudden itch surged in my hand. I turned on the faucet, scrubbing vigorously, desperate to erase any trace of her blood.

“All of this could have been avoided if she hadn’t betrayed me first. This is her fault, not mine,” I seethed, forcing the words through clenched teeth.

The ring of my phone startled me, nearly sending my heart racing out of my chest. I steadied my breath and reached for it, my hands clammy.

It was a nurse from the hospital where Julia was being treated. She had been calling regularly to provide updates on Julia’s condition.

“The surgery has been completed,” her soft voice echoed through the line. My entire body froze, anticipation swirling within me. This was the moment I had been waiting for—the confirmation of Julia’s death.

“She is still unconscious.” Another pause from Bridget, each tick of silence testing my patience.

“And…” I pressed, eager for the words I desperately craved. But then the realization hit me like a cold wave.

She is still unconscious. She didn’t die.

My world shattered in that instant. Bridget continued to speak, detailing the surgical process and the reasons for Julia’s survival, but her words faded into a dull roar in my ears.

The surgery was done, Julia was alive, and that meant one terrifying reality. I bit down on my lower lip until the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. If she lived, she would expose everything I had done.

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