My Fiancé Watched as His Mistress Tried to Kill Me

The cool glass of the medical bottle pressed against my palm as I settled onto the edge of the bathtub. My heart hammered against my ribs, a mixture of anticipation and fear coursing through me. This was it—the moment that would finally make me whole in Xander's eyes.

I uncapped the bottle, the soft pop echoing in the tiled bathroom. The liquid inside looked slightly different than I remembered from my previous appointments—clearer somehow, with a subtle sheen that caught the candlelight. But my nerves were too frayed to question it.

"Just breathe, Katherine," I whispered, my fingers trembling as I dipped them into the cool gel.

The first touch against my skin felt wrong—too viscous, too clingy. I paused, frowning slightly, but pushed the thought aside. Dr. Chen had warned me that each formulation might feel slightly different.

I applied a generous amount to my most sensitive areas, the way I'd been instructed countless times before. The coolness was supposed to be immediate, followed by a gentle numbing sensation that would allow my body to relax enough for Xander.

But the coolness never came.

Instead, heat bloomed across my skin—not the warm flush of arousal, but an intense, searing burn that made my breath catch in my throat. It felt like I'd poured acid onto my most delicate tissues.

"What's happening?" I gasped, jerking my hand away.

The sensation intensified, spreading outward in waves of agony. When I looked down, I saw that the liquid had begun to change consistency, thickening and turning cloudy where it touched the moisture of my skin.

"No, no, no," I whimpered, panic rising as I realized something was terribly wrong.

I grabbed a nearby washcloth, desperate to wipe away the substance before it could do more damage. But as soon as the fabric touched my skin, a fresh wave of pain tore through me—the friction was accelerating the reaction.

"Oh God!" I cried out, dropping the cloth as my thighs began to stick together.

The realization hit me with horrifying clarity: this wasn't the medical lubricant. This was something else entirely—something that was literally bonding with my skin.

I tried to stand, but my legs wouldn't cooperate. The sticky substance had spread, creating a chemical burn that felt like my skin was being torn apart from the inside. I collapsed onto the bathroom floor, my screams echoing off the marble tiles.

"Xander!" I shrieked, my voice breaking with desperation. "Xander, help me!"

Footsteps thundered down the hallway, and the bathroom door swung open with such force that it slammed against the wall.

"Katherine?" Xander stood in the doorway, his expression not of concern but of irritation. "What the hell is going on?"

I looked up at him through tears of agony, my body convulsing with pain. "Something's wrong," I choked out. "It burns—it's burning me!"

His eyes flicked over me, taking in my collapsed form on the floor, but there was no compassion in his gaze—only annoyance.

"You're doing this now?" he said, running a hand through his hair. "On my birthday?"

"I'm not doing anything!" I sobbed, reaching toward him. "Please, help me up!"

Xander took a step backward, his jaw tightening. "This is exactly what Brittany warned me about. You're being dramatic again."

"Dramatic?" I gasped, disbelief momentarily overriding my pain. "Xander, I need to get to a hospital!"

"Stop it," he snapped, his voice rising. "You're ruining the whole vibe of tonight. We were finally going to—"

"I know what we were going to do!" I screamed, interrupting him as another wave of agony ripped through me. "But something is seriously wrong!"

He looked at me for a long moment, then shook his head in disgust. "I can't deal with this right now."

As he turned to leave, his eyes caught something on the counter—the empty bottle. For a split second, I thought he might realize what had happened, might understand that I wasn't faking my suffering.

Instead, he picked it up and hurled it against the wall. The glass shattered, fragments raining down around me as he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

"Xander!" I screamed after him, but he was already walking away, his footsteps fading down the hallway.

I lay there on the cold tile floor, my body burning as if I'd been set aflame from within. Through the haze of pain, I heard the distant sound of laughter—Brittany's distinctive giggle floating through the apartment.

And in that moment, as my vision began to blur and darkness crept in at the edges, I realized that this had been no accident.