Too Late, Mr. Ex: I'm Free

Aurora POV:

Ilene stepped into the room and kicked the door shut behind her.

She crossed her arms, looking around the sterile hospital room with the absolute disdain of a victor.

I sat back down on the edge of the bed. I kept my face blank. Slowly, naturally, I adjusted the angle of my phone on the nightstand, ensuring the camera lens was pointed directly at her.

Living in survival mode for years had taught me to always leave a backup plan.

Ilene walked right up to the foot of my bed. "Ethan was with me all night," she bragged, her voice dripping with fake pity. "He didn't sleep a wink. He was so worried about my nerves."

She let out a short, cruel laugh. "And I saw the paperwork for that Upper East Side penthouse. Don't think you won anything, Aurora. It's just charity. A cheap payoff for losing that little burden in your stomach."

My eyes remained as calm as a frozen lake. I didn't show a single ounce of anger. I didn't even flinch at the mention of my baby.

My total indifference pierced right through her. Ilene fed on my pain. Without it, she was starving.

Her eyes darted around the room, looking for something to hurt me with. She spotted my favorite wooden easel standing in the corner, holding a half-finished canvas.

She marched over to it and kicked the legs out from under it.

The easel crashed to the floor. Tubes of expensive oil paint burst open, smearing bright, chaotic colors all over the pristine white carpet.

I sat perfectly still. I looked at the mess, then back at her.

"You are so pathetic," I said. My voice was a flat, quiet whisper.

That single sentence was a spark dropped straight into a barrel of gunpowder. Ilene's deep-rooted insecurity as an illegitimate child flared up into pure, uncontrollable rage.

"Shut up!" she shrieked.

She grabbed the heavy glass water pitcher from the table and hurled it directly at the wall beside my head.

The glass shattered with a deafening crash. Sharp shards exploded outward. One sliced right across the back of my hand, drawing a fresh line of blood.

Ilene's face twisted into a grotesque, manic sneer. "You think you're better than me? I pushed you down those stairs on purpose, you stupid bitch! I wanted that bastard dead, and Ethan is helping me cover it up!"

The high-definition camera on my phone captured every single word, every psychotic twist of her features.

Out in the hallway, the squeaking wheels of a nurse's medication cart grew loud.

My eyes flashed. I snatched my phone off the nightstand and shoved it under my thigh.

In the exact same second, I threw my body off the edge of the mattress. I landed hard on the floor, right in the middle of the shattered glass.

My eyes turned bloodshot in an instant. Heavy, terrified tears flooded my vision and spilled down my cheeks.

The door swung open. The duty nurse froze in the doorway, her eyes wide as she took in the horrific scene.

I wrapped my arms around my knees, trembling violently. I let out a broken, suppressed sob that sounded like a dying animal.

"Oh my god!" the nurse screamed. She slammed her hand onto the emergency alarm on the wall and rushed over, throwing her arms around me to shield me from Ilene.

Ilene stood there, her mouth hanging open, utterly paralyzed by how fast I had changed my face.

"You... you crazy bitch, she's faking it!" Ilene stammered.

Two large security guards burst into the room. They didn't listen to a word Ilene said. They grabbed her by the arms and dragged her backward toward the door.

"Let go of me! Ethan will fire all of you! She's lying!" Ilene's shrill screams echoed down the corridor as they hauled her away.

The nurse gently pulled me up, her face pale with worry as she began carefully picking the glass shards out of my bleeding hand.

I kept my head bowed, letting my hair fall forward to hide my face.

Beneath the shadow of my hair, the corners of my lips curled up into a freezing, triumphant smile.

"I can't breathe in here," I whispered, my voice shaking perfectly. "Can I please go down to the garden for some air?"

The nurse nodded frantically. She brought a wheelchair, helped me into it, and pushed me out of the ruined room, down toward the private garden on the ground floor.

I took a deep breath of the damp, rain-washed air.

"Finally, some peace."