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Fatal Perfume Novel Cover

Fatal Perfume

Upon receiving a gift from her friend Queenie Livingston, the protagonist chooses to destroy it. In a past life, this perfume triggered a gruesome transformation, leaving her covered in hair and reeking. Shunned by society and abandoned by her boyfriend, Preston Zimmerman, she died in despair. Only in death did she realize the scent was lethally tampered with. Now, having regressed to the day she received the bottle, she is determined to survive and uncover the truth.
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Chapter 2

It was after my death that Queenie finally achieved her aim—Preston officially became her boyfriend.

In a perverse search for thrills, she even engaged in an intense sexual act with Preston in the very room where I died, doing it directly in front of my portrait.

The horrific events of my past life flashed before my eyes. I instinctively gritted my teeth, a violent, raging fury coursing through every fiber of my being. It was only when my fingernails tore into my own flesh that the searing pain succeeded in wrenching my thoughts back to the present.

"What's the matter, Helena? You should really try this perfume," Queenie prompted as she batted her large eyes with a look of pure innocence, her harmless appearance giving absolutely no hint of her cruel and wicked nature.

She noticed that I didn't reach for the gift, so she gently extended the porcelain bottle containing the perfume.

I quickly shot up and stepped away from my desk. I pointed warily at the slightly cluttered surface and said, "You can just leave that there for the time being."

A flash of hostility briefly flickered across Queenie's features before she quickly composed herself.

She insisted, saying, "It was crafted by a local florist back in my hometown, and it's considered priceless. I spent over half of my paycheck on it. It's just a perfume, not poison. There's nothing to be so frightened of, Helena."

I noticed the gloves she was wearing and immediately guessed that the perfume wasn't just poisonous to inhale—touching the bottle itself could also cause serious harm.

Seeing that I still wouldn't take the perfume, Queenie suddenly bit her lower lip hard, tears spilling from her bloodshot eyes.

"I'm aware of my humble background and that this perfume isn't from a premium brand. It's only natural that you'd be unimpressed by it, but I just wanted to show my appreciation, Helena."

I had treated her like family, yet she wanted me dead. At that moment, she was even trying to play the victim and emotionally manipulate me. I wasn't going to let her do that to me.

I suppressed my rage and said with a chilling smile, "Your words are deeply hurtful, Queenie. I was the one who stayed behind to finish the backlog of files you left without even receiving a cent of overtime pay.

"Instead of acknowledging that, you seem to have forgotten everything I did for you, and you're even accusing me of looking down on you.

"I'm truly offended, Queenie. If I really looked down on you, would I have helped you at all? Just because I didn't take the perfume, you assumed I look down on you? That's far too much."

I made sure my voice quivered with suppressed tears as our colleagues turned their attention toward us.

They knew I had always stood up for Queenie and been good to her, so when they heard my distraught voice, they instantly jumped in to defend me.

"Helena has done countless favors for you, Queenie. How can you now accuse her of looking down on you?"

"I recall numerous times when you simply walked out the door, while Helena was stuck working well into the night in the office. What about you, Queenie? What exactly did you ever do for her in return?"

"I distinctly remember when our paychecks were delayed last month, Helena treated you to food so many times. You never once offered to treat her in return, and yet here you are, acting like the victim! You ought to learn to be a decent person, Queenie!"

"What's the brand of this perfume anyway? Why did it come in a plain porcelain bottle? And why are you wearing that disposable glove? Don't tell me that the perfume is actually toxic?"

They already held a poor opinion of Queenie. So while they defended me, they also seized the perfect opportunity to vent their own long-held dissatisfactions with her.

Queenie had a habit of playing the victim. If anyone dared to refuse one of her demands, she would instantly start crying to other colleagues, suggesting that her poor background made her an easy target for abuse.

Queenie's underlying message was always that her financial hardships entitled her to special treatment and deference from others.

It wasn't long before everyone figured out her true character, so they just stopped indulging her altogether.

Queenie's expression hardened as she stared intently at the perfume on the desk. She then forced a smile and said apologetically, "I'm so sorry for letting my temper get the best of me and saying the wrong thing, Helena. I'll just leave it on your desk for now. You'll know how wonderful it is once you use it.

"I could never bring myself to harm you, Helena. We're colleagues, after all."

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