The Day I Died in His Arms

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[Ugh, the angst is coming! The male lead doesn't even love her; she's just a habit to him.]

[Vivienne, the doomed first love, is about to be written off!]

In the middle of the engagement banquet hall, two lines of semi-transparent text suddenly floated in front of my eyes. Vivienne. That was my name.

I froze.

A few seconds ago, my fianc's secretary had accidentally stepped on my dress.

Killian slammed a shot glass of hard liquor onto the table, forcing the girlwho claimed she never touched alcoholto choose between "chugging the whole glass and getting the hell out" or "getting on her knees and wiping my shoes clean with her own hands." What a domineering, fiercely protective fianc. If I hadn't seen the floating text, I almost would have bought it.

I let out a cold laugh, snatched the glass from the table, and dumped the liquor straight into the nearby ice bucket. "Enough. Stop making a scene."

It was just a man. If I had to throw him away, so be it.

Chapter 1

I excused myself to the restroom. Gripping the edge of the sink, I stared at my pale face in the mirror and swallowed down the targeted terminal illness pills my doctor prescribed, dry.

"You don't look like a bad person."

I turned around. The little secretary, Willow, stood behind me. She wore a blush pink cocktail dress and delicate stilettos. She looked like a fragile white lily swaying in the wind, practically begging to be protected.

"I appreciate you stepping in out there, so I owe you the truth," she bit her lower lip, her tone dropping any pretense. "Killian hasn't loved you for a long time. Because he and I are already sleeping together.

"It wasn't a drunken mistake, and it wasn't just once. In the heat of the moment, he even talked about marrying me."

Even though the floating text had spoiled the plot, the sheer audacity of this mistress left me momentarily speechless.

I closed the distance between us. My heels clicked against the tiles, backing her up until her spine hit the edge of the marble counter. I stared down at her from my height. "You came all the way in here to wag your tail and beg for scraps over something this pathetic?"

Willow's eyes brimmed with unshed tears. Her fingers moved to the collar of her dress, unfastening the top three buttons to expose her pale shoulder. A distinct bite mark sat there, surrounded by a cluster of deep red hickies trailing down to her collarbone. The sight felt like needles behind my eyes.

"He took me on every single business trip. We watched the Northern Lights, went racing, hit up amusement parks, and he bought me my favorite spun sugar. He said if he had met me sooner, everything would be different.

"He said he hated women who were too polished and manipulative. He said my innocence and purity were what made me so precious."

The heavy restroom door creaked open behind us.

Willow instantly grabbed my wrist, her voice cracking into a desperate sob. "Miss Vivienne, it's all my fault! I already drank three glasses to apologize!

"Please forgive me! My family is poor, I can't afford to get fired!"

My gaze dropped. A fresh, dark red wine stain smeared across her collar. She had planned this down to the second. Her body swayed, collapsing toward the floor.

Killian lunged forward and caught her securely in his arms, the veins in his neck bulging. "You know you're allergic to alcohol! Why would you drink just because someone told you to? Are you trying to kill yourself?!"

As he scooped her up to leave, Killian turned his back to me. The temperature in his voice plummeted. "Vivienne, I get that you don't like her, but there's no need to stoop to this level. I told you I'd handle things for you."

I watched him kick the door open and sprint down the hallway with her in his arms. The heavy silence filled the room.

Killian's little secretary was fresh out of college, her eyes brimming with a naive, unpolished innocence. She looked exactly like I used to. From her silhouette to her aura.

Killian's taste in women hadn't changed at all.

Chapter 2

I pulled out my phone and scrolled through Killian's social media feed. The girl hadn't lied. He had been to Iceland, the racetrack, and the amusement park. Killian rarely posted anything, but over the last six months, his timeline was flooded.

The captions sounded exactly like a teenage girl wrote them, complete with excessive emojis. Even his cover photo had been quietly swapped out for a shot of the Icelandic Northern Lights.

I locked my screen, the black glass reflecting my tired eyes. It was almost funny. From high school until now, one corporate crisis or another had always gotten in the way. We had never actually taken a real vacation, just the two of us.

I pushed myself off the wall and walked back into the banquet hall. My heels clicked steadily against the marble as I pulled the microphone from the stand.

"I apologize, everyone," my voice rang out, steady and detached. "I'm not feeling well today. The engagement ceremony will not be proceeding as planned. Thank you for your understanding."

The hall erupted into hushed whispers and shocked gasps as guests exchanged confused glances.

I ignored them, my gaze fixed on the semi-transparent text still hovering above the crowd. A dry, self-deprecating laugh escaped my throat.

There was no grand conspiracy.

I just had exactly one month left to live.

Killian and I went all the way back to high school. He was the arrogant, volatile rich kid with a massive chip on his shoulder, and I was the dirt-poor straight-A student who kept her head down. Not long after the semester started, the teacher paired us up at the same desk. Everyone bet money that he would make my life a living hell.

Instead, it was like a switch flipped. He dyed his bleached hair back to black. He stopped sleeping through lectures. He even started showing up before the first bell, just to wipe down my side of the desk.

One afternoon, he pulled a slightly crushed rose from his jacket pocket like a magic trick. A lazy grin spread across his face.

"Vivienne," he said, the sunlight catching the rare, dead-serious look in his eyes. "Just go out with me. I'm actually crazy about you."

On my eighteenth birthday, he took me back to his family estate. I remember that day perfectly. His mother sat across from me, her face a mask of cold judgment.

"Our family can accept a daughter-in-law without a pedigree or a trust fund, but we do not need a fragile little good girl. We need a ruthless partner who can stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Killian, not some helpless white lily who relies on him to survive."

Killian exploded instantly, slamming his hand on the table and yelling that he loved me exactly the way I was.

But I carved her words directly into my bones.

For the next several years, I clawed my way up. I learned how to play corporate games, how to handle my liquor, and how to smoke with executives just to close a deal. Eventually, everyone in the industry learned to address me respectfully as "Miss Vivienne." But the way Killian looked at me grew increasingly complicated.

One night, after too much to drink, he buried his face in the crook of my neck, lingering for a long time before collapsing back against the leather sofa. He let out a heavy sigh. "Vivienne, I miss the way you used to smell. Just like a little flower."

I just gave him a tired smile, pulled a blanket over his chest, and cracked open my laptop to review contracts until dawn.

Chapter 3

I went back to my apartment and crashed hard into a dreamless sleep for the entire afternoon. By the time I woke up, my phone had blown up with missed calls from relatives and friends. Even Killian's mother had called over a dozen times, demanding to know what happened. Over the years, his parents had finally come to accept me, but ironically, Killian was the one drifting further away.

My thumb traced the cold glass of the screen. I typed out a quick reply to his mother. "Ma'am, it has nothing to do with any of that. Killian and I just aren't a match anymore."

Hitting send, I tossed the phone aside and stared out the window. The twilight deepened, swallowing the room in pitch black.

The bedroom door clicked open, letting in a draft of cold air. The mattress dipped, and a heavy body slid in behind me, pulling me into a suffocating embrace.

Killian's scorching breath fanned across my neck, his heavy arm locking like a steel vice around my waist. "Vivienne, you really disappointed me today. You never used to make a scene and embarrass me like that.

"I was just protecting the company's image. Why are you always acting so irrational lately?"

His breathing grew ragged, his hands wandering lower, sliding under my hem. I planted my hands on his chest and shoved him backward.

Killian froze, the rejection snapping him out of his haze. His fingers clamped down hard on my wrist. "Why?" he demanded, his voice dropping. "You're cutting me off?"

I stared at the dark silhouette of his eyes. "You're sleeping with your secretary, aren't you?"

Even though the floating text had already spoiled it, I needed to hear the lie straight from his mouth.

The silence stretched out for two agonizing seconds. "No," he said, his jaw tightening. "Who told you that?"

I knew him too well. That two-second hesitation was all the confirmation I needed.

"Save your sickening bullshit." I shoved him hard in the chest, pulling up the provocative photos Willow had sent me and smashing the phone screen directly against his chest. "Did you really think I didn't know what the two of you did in that hotel room in Iceland?"

His breath hitched. He stared at the glowing screen, the color draining from his face. "I'm sorry." He dropped heavily to his knees, burying his face into my stomach and wrapping his arms around my legs.

The moisture of his tears quickly soaked through my clothes. "Vivienne, I love you, I swear I do. We can fix this. Please, let's just work through it together.

"Please," he choked out, his grip tightening. "It didn't mean anything. Don't throw me away. I can't lose you."

His crying grew more desperate, his arms turning into iron bands that trapped me in place. He knew that in the past, whenever he broke down like this, I would cave. I never denied him anything he wanted.

But this time, I dug my fingernails into my palms until they went numb, fighting past the sharp, twisting pain in my chest.

"Killian, we're done."

I, Vivienne, do not recycle used trash.

I slid off the mattress and headed for the door, but Killian lunged, tackling me from behind.

"You are not leaving me! You're mine! You're not going anywhere!"

He dragged me back onto the bed, his movements fueled by a terrifying, erratic force. He frantically ripped off his leather belt and grabbed a silk tie from the chair, forcibly pinning my wrists together and binding them tight to the headboard. "I'll kill anyone who tries to take you from me! You are mine, for the rest of your life!"

The harsh buzz of his phone vibrating against the nightstand shattered the silence.

He slapped it away, rejecting the call without even looking. But it immediately rang again.

Killian's movements faltered. He snatched the phone and pressed it to his ear, dropping the volume down to the lowest setting. But in the silence of the room, I could still hear the frantic voice on the other end.

"Mr. Killian, Miss Willow's alcohol allergy triggered severe internal bleeding. She's vomiting blood and needs an immediate transfusion"

Killian cut the doctor off, his tone dripping with lethal impatience. "Then give her the damn transfusion! I don't care how much it costs, I'll pay for it!"

"No, sir, you misunderstand. Miss Willow has an incredibly rare blood type, and the hospital has zero reserves. Her blood type it's the exact same as Miss Vivienne's."

Chapter 4

Killian's wrist gave a violent twitch.

"Zero reserves? None in the surrounding hospitals either?" He scowled, sliding off the mattress and jamming his feet into his loafers.

"I'm heading over right now. If you're lying to me, I'll have the board dismantle your entire facility."

Before leaving, he barked strict orders at the security detail, commanding them not to let me step one foot out of the estate. He deadbolted the bedroom door three times, shoving the master key deep into his pocket.

"If anything happens to my fianc, I will make sure none of you ever find work in this city again," he ground out the threat, the veins in his neck bulging. When his gaze finally flicked back to me, the muscles in his jaw jumped.

"Wait for me. I'll handle this mess and come right back. We have too much history. We can go back to how we used to be."

He slammed the door behind him.

A wave of pure nausea twisted my stomach. He had savored the fresh, unpolished innocence of a younger girl, using her to chase the ghost of my teenage self, and when he got caught red-handed, he broke down and begged me not to leave. After crossing that line, did he really think there was any going back?

In the dead of night, cold sweat beaded on my forehead as the sharp, burning cramps in my stomach flared up again. I gripped my phone and dialed my best friend, Gemma, who was vacationing in Aspen. Using the emergency code we had established years ago, I begged her to come pull me out. I only had one month left to live.

I was done playing the perfect corporate bride molded for Killian. I just wanted to be Vivienne.

Gemma instantly caught the tremor in my voice. She probed carefully, "Starving in the middle of the night? Why not just order some takeout?"

"No," I replied, staring at the locked door. "I'm trying to lose weight. This extra baggage is trapping me."

Her breath hitched over the receiver. She knew the code. It meant I was being held against my will.

"Got it," she said, her voice dropping an octave. "I'll order it for you when I have a second. Give me two, maybe three days to clear my schedule."

I knew Gemma was already booking a flight. Until she arrived, I couldn't afford to trigger Killian's volatile temper. All his desperate clinging wasn't loveit was just a deeply ingrained habit. He didn't love me, but his ego wouldn't let him release me either.

At dawn, the deadbolts clicked. Killian stepped into the room, bringing the bitter chill of the outside air with him.

"Such a good girl, waiting for me at home," he murmured, a strained smile playing on his lips as he handed me a glass of warm milk. "It's freezing out there. You need to take care of your body." He reached out, his cold fingers brushing my hair back from my forehead, exposing my face just like I used to wear it in high school.

A satisfied smirk touched his lips. "My Vivienne is just as stunning as she was back then. Still the prettiest girl at prep school."

"Get one thing straight," I stared at him, my voice practically dripping with ice. "I am not the Vivienne you knew in high school. And you sure as hell aren't the Killian from back then either."

He yanked his hand back as if he had been burned.

My heavy, meticulously styled waves tumbled down over my shoulders, releasing the sharp, sophisticated notes of my Tom Ford perfume. The haze of nostalgia vanished from Killian's eyes, replaced by a dark, calculating chill.

"I just came back from the ICU," he stated flatly. "Willow is still in a coma. She needs a transfusion. Unfortunately, she has the exact same rare blood type as you do, and the hospital's reserves are running on empty."

His voice grew dangerously raspy. "Vivienne at the end of the day, she triggered that allergy because she was trying to apologize to you. You"

He trailed off, fixing me with a heavy, expectant stare. He knew my track record. I never made things difficult for him.

Chapter 5

"You want to drain my blood to save your mistress?" I snatched a glass from the nightstand and hurled it. It shattered against the wall, sending glass shards flying. "Killian, if you lay one finger on me, I'll make sure your scandal is splashed across the front page of every media outlet by tomorrow morning!"

"Vivienne." Killian let out a hollow, twisted laugh. "You just admitted she said things to upset you. So you lost your temper and taught her a lesson, right?

"Willow is as simple as a blank sheet of paper. But you I've seen exactly how ruthless you are in the boardroom."

A sharp ringing pierced my ears.

The room tilted, spinning rapidly out of focus. A wave of heavy, unnatural dizziness dragged my consciousness under. The last thing I saw was the ceiling blurring as I collapsed against Killian's chest. I felt the cold press of his lips against my forehead.

"No matter what you've done, you will always be my wife. After this is over, we're getting married. We'll never be apart."

When I forced my eyes open, a sterile, blinding white light burned my retinas. My body felt like lead. I couldn't move a single muscle. The steady, shrill beep of heart monitors echoed in the freezing room.

IV lines snaked across both of my arms. A thick, terrifyingly large needle was buried deep into the crook of my elbow, drawing thick dark red liquid out of my veins.

The warm milk. He had drugged me. Killian had already made up his mind before he even stepped foot back in the apartment.

From behind the privacy curtain, a sickeningly fragile voice drifted over. "Killian you're doing all this for me. What if Miss Vivienne breaks up with you because of this?"

Killian's voice was frighteningly cold. "I'm not doing this for you. I just don't want Vivienne to live with the guilt of having blood on her hands.

"She'll understand. We are never breaking up."

Willow fell silent for a few seconds. "They have to take so much blood. I'm scared of the pain can you hold me?"

Her voice hitched into a pitiful sob. "Look how thick that needle is. I'm so scared.

"Will it leave a scar? I don't want an ugly scar"

"Enough. It won't leave a scar. I'll tell the doctors to be gentle," Killian cut in, a dark edge of impatience lacing his words.

A nurse pushed a metal cart past my bed, the sudden draft catching the edge of the privacy curtain and flipping it open. Through the narrow gap, I watched Killian lean over the neighboring bed.

He carefully, gently gathered Willow into his arms. He shifted his gaze. His dark eyes locked directly onto mine.

I stared back at him, my mind strangely numb. Ten years ago, a boy swore he would protect me from the rest of the world. Over the last decade, that boy had mutated into a monster I didn't even recognize.

Killian, didn't you promise you'd never let anyone hurt me?

"Vivienne." His spine stiffened. He straightened up, slowly releasing his grip on the girl.

There were no more excuses left to spin. He had simply fallen in love with someone else. "I've made the arrangements. We're calling off the engagement banquet next month."

The air in the hospital room stagnated. On the bed next to me, I could see Willow practically vibrating, about to sit bolt upright in pure thrill.

A feverish glint flared in Killian's eyes as he stared down at me. "We're skipping straight to the wedding. The second youre discharged, we're signing the papers."

"You psychotic bastard," I spat, my throat burning like acid. "Giving you the last ten years of my life is my biggest regret. You can rot in hell. If you think I'm ever putting a ring on your finger, you're out of your damn mind!"

He just stared down at me. A slow, soundless smile stretched across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. "You can hate me all you want. I still love you."

He closed the distance between us. Ignoring my weak, drug-addled attempts to thrash away, he clamped a heavy hand over my shoulder, pinning me flat against the mattress, and pressed a hard, suffocating kiss against my forehead.

I cursed him with every foul word I knew. My lungs burned. The IV lines yanked painfully against my bruised skin. My vision blurred with hot, angry tears as the last thread of my pride snapped.

"Stop the transfusion," I choked out, my chest heaving violently. "I didn't force her to drink! It was an act!

"But if you do this, I will actually die. Killian, I am dying, do you hear me? You're going to regret this."

"I will never let you die." He straightened his posture. The harsh fluorescent light cast a long, suffocating shadow over his face.

He turned his back to me. "Doctor, start the procedure."

Chapter 6