Fiancé Chose the Maid Over Me

The weeks that followed were a blur of bizarre episodes, each more disturbing than the last. Rosa seemed to change personalities like clothes, and with each transformation, my life became more unbearable.

One morning, I woke to find my jewelry box emptied. When I confronted Rosa, she backed away, eyes wide with paranoia.

"She's stealing from us!" she shrieked, pointing at me. "I saw her taking your things, Mr. Hart! She's going to sell them and leave you!"

Lorenzo's expression darkened as he looked between us. "Alexandra, is this true?"

"Of course not!" I protested, but Rosa's performance was flawless—wild eyes, trembling hands, the convincing fear of someone genuinely disturbed.

"I need to protect myself," she sobbed into Lorenzo's chest. "She's dangerous."

Later that same week, I found Rosa in my bedroom, methodically shredding my wedding dress.

"What are you doing?" I cried, lunging forward.

She didn't even flinch. Instead, she looked up with hollow eyes. "These things are contaminated," she whispered in a flat, emotionless voice. "They'll hurt you if you wear them."

Before I could stop her, she'd cut through the delicate lace bodice I'd spent months selecting.

"Rosa!" Lorenzo's voice boomed from the doorway. "What's happening?"

"She's destroying my wedding dress," I said, fighting back tears.

But Rosa had already transformed again, collapsing to the floor in silent tears. "I can't control it," she whimpered. "Sometimes I don't know what I'm doing."

Lorenzo knelt beside her, his back to me. "It's okay," he murmured. "You're safe now."

His eyes met mine over her head, cold with disappointment. "How can you be so cruel to someone who's clearly ill?"

---

The arrival of Dr. Myles Gardner brought the first ray of hope I'd seen in weeks. He was tall and composed, with kind eyes that seemed to see right through the chaos of the Hart mansion.

"Alexandra?" he said when we first met in the hallway. "Is that really you?"

I blinked in surprise. "Do we know each other?"

His smile was warm as he extended his hand. "Myles Gardner. We were in the same village sponsorship program as kids. You won't remember me—I was just the awkward boy who always hid behind books."

The memory surfaced slowly—a shy boy with glasses too big for his face, always watching from the edges of the group. "Myles... you were the one who helped me start the literacy program."

"That's right." His eyes crinkled at the corners. "I never expected to see you again, especially not here."

Later that afternoon, I found him examining Lorenzo's arm, his touch clinical but gentle.

"The nerve damage is significant," he explained, "but with proper treatment, we should see improvement within weeks."

Lorenzo nodded, distracted. "And how long will that take?"

"Several sessions, at least." Myles's gaze drifted to where I stood in the doorway. "Alexandra, could I speak with you for a moment?"

In the hallway, his professional demeanor softened. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly. "You seem..."

"Fine," I finished quickly. "Just stressed about the wedding."

His eyes lingered on the fading bruise on my cheek. "That looks painful."

"It's nothing." I turned away. "Just an accident."

"Alexandra." His voice was gentle but firm. "If you ever need someone to talk to..."

I shook my head, cutting him off. "I'm handling it."

---

The library had always been my sanctuary, but even that was violated now. I was reviewing wedding invitations when Rosa appeared with a stack of books.

"These need shelving," she said in a perfectly normal voice—too normal.

Something about her calm demeanor made my skin crawl. I watched her carefully as she climbed the rolling ladder to reach the higher shelves.

"Rosa," I said cautiously, "do you need help with those?"

She turned, and for just a moment, I saw something calculating in her eyes. Then her body went rigid.

"Oh god," she gasped, clutching at her chest. "I can't breathe—please help me!"

I rushed forward as she began to convulse, but before I could reach her, she threw herself backward off the ladder with shocking force.

The crash echoed through the library as she landed at the bottom of the stairs, limbs splayed at unnatural angles.

"Lorenzo!" she screamed. "Help! She pushed me!"

I froze in horror as Lorenzo burst through the door, his face contorted with rage when he saw Rosa on the floor.

"What happened?" he demanded, rushing to her side.

"She pushed me," Rosa sobbed, pointing a trembling finger at me. "During my episode—she pushed me down the stairs!"

"No!" I protested. "Lorenzo, I was trying to help her!"

But his eyes were cold as he gathered Rosa in his arms. "I've heard enough," he said, his voice deadly quiet.

The next morning, I woke to find Rosa's things moved to a room adjacent to Lorenzo's. Two security guards stood outside her door.

"To protect her," Lorenzo explained curtly when I questioned him. "From you."

As I stood there, effectively banned from my own fiancé's side, I realized with sickening clarity that Rosa had won another battle in her war against me.