His Gaslighting Stole My Flame to Spark Another Woman’s Fame

The rescue team moved swiftly, sprinting toward the direction Avril had pointed out.

Tears still glistened on her cheeks when she suddenly broke into a radiant smile and threw herself into Alston’s arms.

“Thank you, Alston! I knew you cared about me the most!”

Alston soothed her. “Don’t be afraid. Luther will be fine.”

Their conversation carried clearly through the air—each word stabbing into Tracy’s ears like a sharpened blade, slicing her heart to pieces.

From afar came a faint rumble—the tremor of another aftershock approaching.

Tracy lay among the cold ruins, feeling her life slipping away bit by bit.

She couldn’t help but think of her parents’ worried voices on the phone, of the plane ticket she hadn’t used, of the new life that was supposed to begin for her…

Then, from the murky depths of unconsciousness, she was yanked back into the world of the living. Her awareness was hazy, but her body cried out before her mind could catch up.

Pain radiated from every inch of her, her bones crushed as if by a heavy machine, her joints and muscles screaming sharply in agony.

Her eyelids lifted with immense effort, revealing a sliver of the world—a blurry white hospital ceiling.

Before she could even gather her thoughts or figure out where she was, the ward door burst open with a violent kick, the sound jolting her heart like a thunderclap.

Standing at the doorway was Avril. Her face, once soft and innocent, now brimmed with open malice.

Behind her were two men in white coats, expressionless, pushing a wheeled stretcher into the room.

Suddenly, a chill crawled up Tracy’s spine.

“H-Hey… What are you going to do?” Her voice was hoarse and trembling, thick with fear she couldn’t suppress.

Avril strode to the bedside, looking down at her with a childlike, twisted excitement.

“Miss Tracy, you’re awake! That’s wonderful!” She clapped her hands cheerfully. “You see, I recently came up with the most brilliant idea for a fireworks design. I can’t wait to paint it out and see how it looks. But unfortunately, I just can’t seem to find the right canvas…”

Her gaze dropped—landing on Tracy’s trembling body.

“Your skin is so smooth. Why don’t you be… my canvas?”

“Let go of me! Are you insane?!”

Tracy screamed with all the strength she could muster, but her voice was weak, almost pitiful.

She clung to the edge of the bed, frantically trying to pull herself back.

Just as the struggle between them escalated, the door flew open again.

Alston appeared at the threshold, his tall figure framed by the harsh fluorescent light.

“What are you doing?” His voice was sharp, disbelieving.

Instantly, Avril released her grip and turned toward him, her expression shifting in a heartbeat—from cruelty to a pitiful sweetness. She clung to his arm, her voice soft and pleading.

“Alston, you came just in time.”

She pointed at Tracy. “I only wanted Miss Tracy to help me a little. I came up with this amazing fireworks idea and wanted to paint it. Her skin is just perfect for my canvas… But if Miss Tracy doesn’t want to, then… then I guess, I’ll just forget it.”

She lowered her head, her shoulders trembling slightly—looking sensible yet disappointed.

In an instant, Tracy’s heart leapt to her throat. She looked up at Alston with the last remnants of her strength, her voice cracking and hoarse.

“No! Alston, you can’t let her do this!”

For a moment, Alston was silent.

Then, his thin lips parted as he turned to Avril.

“If it helps you,” he said quietly, “then do it.”

He paused before warning her. “But mind your limits. Don’t kill her.”

And with that, he turned and walked away without glancing back.

“Alston!”

Tracy broke down completely, her voice tearing through the air, full of despair and hatred. But the man’s decisive silhouette didn’t stop; it vanished beyond the door.

Then, the door clicked shut. Tracy was locked from the outside. He really made sure to deny her help from anyone outside.

Avril’s gentle mask vanished instantly, leaving only twisted delight and vicious glee.

She walked to the stretcher and picked up what looked like a neatly arranged set of “paintbrushes.”

Tracy’s blood ran cold when she realized… they weren’t brushes at all!

They were steel needles of varying thicknesses, glinting coldly under the light.

And beside them, the so-called “paints” were bottles of tattoo ink, each one vividly colored and reeking with a pungent, chemical stench!

“Avril… What… What are you going to do?” Tracy’s voice shook uncontrollably with terror.

Avril picked up the thickest needle, admiring the glint of metal under the lamp. Her smile was both sweet and sadistic.

“Needles are my brushes,” she said softly. “Only with these can I create a masterpiece that will never fade—one etched into your flesh and bone. Right?”

As soon as she said that, Tracy’s last shred of restraint snapped.

With a desperate scream, she lunged at Avril, fueled by pain and fury. She wanted to strangle her to end this nightmare.

“You psycho! You stole my designs, you fooled Alston, and now, you want to kill me?! A filthy, shameless woman like you deserves to die!”

Suddenly, Avril kicked Tracy hard between the legs, the smile on the former’s face sinister and strange. “Then… let’s see who lasts until the end!”

Tracy crumpled to the floor with a strangled gasp, pain exploding through her body.

Avril’s eyes gleamed darkly as she lifted the steel needle and drove it down mercilessly into Tracy’s bare shoulder.

“Ahhh! Ahhh!”

The scream tore through her throat, echoing around the sterile room, only to be muffled.

The brutal, bone-piercing pain made her whole body convulse violently, as if struck by electricity.

Avril was prepared. She quickly stuffed a rug into Tracy’s mouth. Now, only faint, broken whimpers escaped.

Avril began to move the long needle across Tracy’s smooth back—methodically, deliberately—etching a pattern of fireworks into her flesh.

The sharp point pierced skin and muscle, carrying with it the burning sting of tattoo ink. Every thrust brought searing pain that lit her nerves on fire.

Each stroke drew another suppressed moan, another involuntary spasm.

“Do you know?” Avril whispered beside Tracy’s ear, her breath cold and close. “Bitch, just for you, I’m giving you a grand fireworks finale—one that marks the end of your love and your dreams. Every spark I carve into you will be my ‘thank you.’ You’ll wear it forever—engraved into your skin, buried in your bones. A reminder that everything you had… was meant for me!”

Wave after wave of agony crashed over Tracy. There was no end, no escape—only pain and despair swallowing her whole.

Through the blur of tears clouding her vision, the world faded into nothing but the searing torment in her back and Avril’s deranged laughter echoing through the empty ward, endlessly reverberating in the darkness.