My Death Was My Revenge, His Regret Came Too Late

“You expect me to believe that?” he said quietly.

My chest tightened. “I’m just telling you what happened.”

He laughed once but there was no humor in it.

“Natalia?” he said. “The girl who cries if a stray cat gets hurt? The girl who begged me all day not to let you go to George Vale’s place because she was scared something would happen to you?” His voice hardened. “I heard she locked herself in her room and cried the entire time you were gone. She kept saying she wished she could take your place.” He looked straight at me then. “And now you’re telling me she threw boiling water at you?”

My throat felt dry. “I’m not lying.”

“When did you start lying to me, Amelia?” Westley’s eyes went darker.

“I didn’t,” I said quietly. “I never lied to you.”

He stared at me for another second like he was trying to see through my skull. Then suddenly he shoved me hard.

“Still arguing!” he snapped.

I stumbled back and almost fell.

“Guards!” he called sharply. Two men rushed into the backyard immediately. “Twenty lashes,” Westley said without even looking at me. “Right here.”

The guards hesitated for half a second. Nobody liked punishing me. They all knew I was the one who usually protected them.

But Westley’s orders were absolute.

They grabbed my arms and forced me onto the wooden bench in the backyard. I didn’t fight. What was the point?

The first lash came down across my back. Pain exploded through my body and tore open skin that hadn’t even healed yet.

Westley stood a few steps away watching.

Cold. Unmoved.

“This is a warning,” he said calmly. “Anyone who dares speak badly about Natalia will be punished the same way.”

The second strike came.

Then the third.

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood and my vision started to blur but memories kept flashing through my head.

The first time I killed someone was when I was fifteen. I was shaking so badly I couldn’t even hold the knife steady.

Westley had pulled me into his arms that night.

“Hey,” he said softly back then. “Look at me. It’s alright.”

“I was scared,” I whispered.

“I know,” he said and gently touched my head. “But you’re not alone. I’m here.”

Now he was the one standing there while someone tore my back apart.

Fourth strike.

Fifth.

By the time they reached twenty my entire back felt like it was on fire. Blood soaked through my shirt and dripped onto the stone floor.

The guards stepped away slowly and everything went black.

Somewhere far away I heard voices.

The doctor's shaky voice spoke first. “Mr. Grimshaw… her pulse is extremely weak. I’m afraid she might not have much time left.”

Something shattered loudly.

Glass hitting the floor.

“What did you just say?” Westley’s voice sounded colder than ice.

The doctor sounded terrified now. “I’m sorry sir but her body is already failing. The injuries are severe and her heartbeat is fading.”

“Get out,” Westley snapped.

The footsteps rushed away quickly.

The room went quiet after everyone left. A few seconds later the curtain around the bed was suddenly pulled aside.

Westley stood there.

His face was shadowed but I could still see the cold look in his eyes. My hands, the same hands that had held guns and knives for him for eleven years, were lying useless on the blanket.

“You made a blood oath to me,” he said slowly. “Remember that night? You said if anyone ever hurt you, I’d make them regret being born.”

His voice dropped lower.

“So explain something to me, Amelia. When did you learn to work with doctors to fake a dying act like this?”

I didn’t answer.

I just closed my eyes.

For a moment the room stayed silent. Then I felt the air around him change.

“You’re not even going to explain?” he said sharply. “You think I’m stupid enough to fall for this?”

Still nothing from me.

His footsteps moved closer to the bed.

“You’ve been acting strange for a while,” he continued coldly. “But this… pretending to die just to get attention? I didn’t think you’d sink that low.”

My chest rose slowly.

I still didn’t speak.

That seemed to make him even angrier.

“Fine,” he said suddenly.

His voice turned completely cold.

“Throw away all her medicine. Every bottle. Every bandage.”

Someone outside hesitated. “Mr. Grimshaw…”

“Did you not fucking hear me?!” he snapped. “Since she loves pretending so much, let her deal with it herself.”

A moment later I heard the cabinet being opened and everything being thrown into a trash bag.

Then the door slammed shut behind him.

The sound echoed through the quiet room.

I lay there on the bed staring at the ceiling. The wounds on my back burned like fire under my skin.

Pain had become normal a long time ago.

Just like the way he hurt me again and again.

As the night got deeper the pain got worse. My body started shaking and cold sweat soaked the sheets. I bit the corner of the blanket to stop myself from making any noise.

Somewhere in the middle of the night my mind drifted back to years ago.

The first time I got badly injured on a mission.

I had been stabbed and almost bled out.

Westley stayed beside my bed for three days back then. Three days without leaving. He even changed the bandages himself.

I still remembered the look in his eyes.

It looked like he was in pain.

Like it hurt him to see me hurt.

Stupid me.

I thought it meant something.

I thought maybe… maybe he cared.

...

Morning finally came and the pain eased a little. I had just closed my eyes when someone knocked on the door.

The butler’s voice came from outside.

“Miss Meadow, Mr. Grimshaw ordered you to come to the main hall immediately. You’re going with him to fulfill a promise.”

I slowly pushed myself up.

It felt like a thousand needles were stabbing into my back. My hands shook as I wrapped new bandages around the wounds and pulled on a plain black dress.

By the time I walked into the main hall, Westley was already there.

He was wearing a dark tailored coat and standing close to Natalia. He was tying a soft scarf around her neck carefully like she might break if the wind touched her.

Natalia wore a light pink dress and looked bright and delicate.

Next to her I probably looked like something dragged out of a war zone.

“You’re here,” Westley said without even lifting his head.

His voice sounded bored.

“You’re responsible for Natalia’s safety today. Stay close and do your job.”

Finally he glanced at me.

“And Amelia,” he added coldly, “if anything happens to her… you won’t like the consequences.”

I lowered my eyes.

“Yes, sir.”

The cars were already waiting outside.

Westley helped Natalia into the back seat of the black Rolls Royce. I got on a motorcycle with the other guards and followed behind.

The road out of the city was quiet.

Halfway there the sky suddenly opened up and heavy rain started pouring down. Within minutes my clothes were soaked. Water ran down my back and slipped into the bandages, making the wounds sting again.

I could feel warm blood slowly running down my spine.

Natalia lifted the car window halfway and peeked outside.

She looked at me riding in the rain for a moment.

“Westley,” she said softly, “Amelia looks terrible. She’s injured and the rain is pouring like this. Should we let her sit inside the car for a while? Or at least give her an umbrella?”

For half a second I almost laughed.

Westley didn’t even turn his head.

“She’s a bodyguard,” he said calmly. “She’ll be fine.”

That was it. Natalia’s lips curved slightly before she hid the smile.

I tightened my grip on the handle and kept riding.

Right.

Just a bodyguard. Just a weapon he could throw away whenever he wanted. Even if I died tomorrow, he probably wouldn’t lose sleep over it.