My Marriage: A Million Lies

Carissa Vang POV: The voices faded, leaving me in the sterile silence of the room, my body a symphony of aches and throbs. Eli' s tender words to Kala, his promise of protection, echoed in my mind, each syllable twisting the knife of betrayal. My stomach churned, a volatile mix of grief and a burgeoning, destructive rage. A vase of wilting white lilies sat on a small table beside my cot. Lilies, Kala' s favorite. She often left them in prominent places around the penthouse, a subtle, passive-aggressive reminder of her presence, her supposed purity. I stared at them, and a violent tremor ran through me. With a primal scream that tore through my throat, I lunged for the vase, my battered body moving with a strength born of pure adrenaline. I hurled it against the wall, the ceramic shattering into a thousand pieces, water and crushed petals scattering across the floor like blood and torn flesh. Each shard of glass was a reflection of my broken spirit. I screamed again, a guttural sound that was more animal than human, and began to tear at the fine linen sheets, ripping them into strips, my nails scraping against the fabric until my fingertips bled. The door burst open. Eli stood there, his face unreadable, but a flicker of annoyance, perhaps even disgust, crossed his features. "Carissa," he said, his voice flat, devoid of warmth. "What is the meaning of this? You're destroying the room." Destroying the room? My world had been destroyed, carved out and left for dead, and he worried about a room? "You want to talk about destruction?" I choked out, my voice raw, my throat burning. "You destroyed me! You destroyed everything!" Just then, Kala appeared behind him, her eyes wide and innocent, holding a small, intricately carved wooden bird. It was a griffin, its wings spread as if in flight. My eyes locked onto it, and a cold dread seeped into my bones. "Oh, Carissa, dear," Kala cooed, her voice saccharine, "you're quite unwell. Eli, perhaps we should leave her to rest." Her gaze, however, was fixed on the shattered vase, then on my bleeding hands, a smug satisfaction lurking beneath her feigned concern. "The bird," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Where did you get that bird?" My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat of terror and dawning realization. Kala blinked, her expression a picture of innocence. "This old thing? Eli found it for me. Said it reminded him of his family's crest. Isn't it exquisite?" She held it up, twirling it idly, oblivious to the storm brewing within me, or perhaps, deliberately provoking it. My blood ran cold. The Drake family crest was a lion, not a griffin. But I knew that griffin. I had carved a similar one, a gift for Eli on our first anniversary, a symbol of our fierce, protective love. I had spent months on it, carefully sanding and polishing the wood, pouring my soul into every detail. I had given it to him, believing it was a sacred bond between us. He had accepted it with a rare, soft smile, promising to keep it safe. "That's my griffin," I snarled, a low, dangerous growl escaping my lips. "The one I gave Eli. Where is mine?" Kala' s eyes widened further, but her mouth curved into a subtle, mocking smirk. "Oh, that old thing? Eli said he found it in a box of old trinkets. He thought it was rather common, so he gave it to me to play with. I thought it was sweet, so I kept it. But if it upsets you... I can always throw it away." She made a show of contemplating tossing the griffin into the pile of shattered ceramic. A wave of pure, unadulterated fury pulsed through my veins, eclipsing the pain, the despair, everything. He had considered my heartfelt gift "common." He had given it to her. To Kala. The woman he was protecting. The woman he had secretly placed above me. "You manipulative bitch!" I screamed, lunging forward with a force I didn't know I possessed. My hands clamped around Kala' s neck, my fingers digging into her soft flesh, a primal need to choke the life out of her, to make her feel a fraction of the agony she had inflicted upon me. Kala gasped, her eyes bulging in terror, the griffin clattering to the floor. Eli, for the first time, moved with startling speed. He grabbed my wrists, yanking me away from her, his face a mask of cold fury. "Carissa! Stop this madness! You're out of control!" "Out of control?" I shrieked, my voice hoarse. "You want to know what's out of control? Your lies! Your betrayals! You gave her my gift! You let her mock me with it!" Kala, gasping for air, clutched her throat, her eyes welling up with tears. "Eli, she's trying to kill me! She's truly insane!" Her voice was a fragile whisper, perfectly designed to elicit his protection. "She means nothing, Carissa," Eli said, his grip still crushing my wrists. "It's just a trinket. You're hysterical. You need to calm down." His words were like a slap across the face, dismissing my pain, dismissing my love, dismissing everything. "Nothing?" I laughed, a broken, desperate sound. "It was a symbol! A promise! A piece of my soul! And you gave it to her? And you call it nothing?!" My voice rose to a frenzied pitch. "You call me hysterical? You broke me! You systematically broke me, and now you gaslight me?!" My rage, a raw, burning inferno, consumed me. I twisted, breaking free from Eli's grip, and lashed out wildly, my fist connecting with his cheek with a satisfying thud. He staggered back, momentarily stunned. Kala screamed, a high-pitched shriek that pierced the air. She threw herself at Eli, scrambling to protect him, to be protected by him. My eyes, crazed with fury, spotted the shattered vase on the floor. I grabbed a large, jagged shard, my fingers closing around it, blood welling up from the cuts. "You want destruction, Eli?" I snarled, my voice dripping with venom. "I'll give you destruction!" I lunged again, not at him, but at Kala, who was cowering behind Eli. Kala, trying to shield Eli, stumbled, and my wild swing caught her arm instead. There was a sickening crunch, a flash of red, and Kala let out a bloodcurdling scream, collapsing to the floor, clutching her arm. The shard of ceramic flew from my hand, clattering against the wall. Eli roared, a sound I had never heard from him before, a primal, guttural cry of pure rage. He dropped to his knees beside Kala, his hands hovering over her injured arm, his face contorted with a mixture of fear and fury. "Kala! My God, Kala! What have you done, Carissa?!" Medical personnel, alerted by the commotion, burst into the room. They swarmed around Kala, their voices hushed and urgent. "It's broken, Mr. Drake," one of them said. "Severe lacerations and a suspected fracture. She'll need immediate surgery, possibly reconstructive. The nerve damage... we can't be sure." Kala whimpered, her eyes wide with fear, tears streaming down her face. "My arm... my beautiful arm! What if I can't paint? What if I can't play piano? Eli, what if I'm scarred forever?" Her voice was filled with a genuine terror, but even in her distress, I saw the manipulative glint, the way she played to his protective instincts. "We'll do whatever it takes, Kala," Eli vowed, his voice tight with barely suppressed emotion, his gaze burning into me with pure hatred. "Whatever it takes." Then, the doctor, a grim-faced man with tired eyes, spoke. "Mrs. Meyer, your injury is quite severe. We're looking at extensive reconstructive surgery. And with the lacerations, there's a significant risk of scarring. We may need a skin graft, depending on the extent of the damage." Kala gasped, her eyes fixed on Eli. "A skin graft? Oh, Eli, no! I can't... I can't be disfigured! My career... my image..." The doctor continued, unfazed. "The best grafts come from healthy, compatible tissue. A close relative would be ideal, if possible." Kala's eyes, still brimming with tears, flickered towards me. I saw it then, the malicious thought forming in her mind, the cruel suggestion taking root. She turned back to Eli, her voice a soft, desperate plea. "Eli... Carissa... she's family, isn't she? We have the same blood type, I remember from the health check-ups. She could... she could be a donor, couldn't she?" Her gaze was innocent, yet chillingly deliberate. Eli turned his head slowly, his eyes, dark and cold, settling on me. The hatred was a palpable force, a physical weight in the air. "She's already done enough damage," he said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. "She can at least make amends." He then looked at the doctor. "Can it be done? A forced donation?" The doctor, visibly uncomfortable, shifted his weight. "It's highly unethical, Mr. Drake. We cannot force a donation without explicit consent." Eli's gaze hardened. "Name your price, Doctor. Whatever it takes. And Carissa, you will comply. Consider it compensation for your latest outburst, for all the trouble you've caused. For everything." His voice was a whip, lashing out, cutting deep. "Don't worry," he added, a cruel smile playing on his lips, "your family will be compensated handsomely for your... generosity." My heart pounded, a frantic drum against my ribs. "No!," I spat, defiance still burning within me, despite the pain. "I won't! You can't force me!" Eli simply raised an eyebrow, a chillingly calm gesture. "Oh, I assure you, Carissa. I can. You are my wife. And you will do as I say." He nodded to the guards. "Take her. Make sure she's... cooperative." I struggled, screamed, fought with every ounce of strength I had left, but it was futile. The guards were too strong, too many. My vision blurred as I was dragged away, Eli's cold, triumphant gaze the last thing I saw before a sharp prick in my arm, and then, merciful darkness. He thought he had broken me. He thought he had won. But he had only ignited a fire that would consume them all.