I Died to Escape Your Love

My husband was the undisputed king of Manhattans venture capital scene.

He also had an adopted sistera petulant, genius hacker.

For eight years, their dynamic was high-profile and exhausting: she broke things, and he swept up the pieces.

Until yesterday, when she hacked my cars braking system, sending me hurtling off a cliff.

As he signed my emergency surgical consent form at the hospital, he only sighed:

"Don't blame Talia. She was just playing a game. She didn't actually want to kill you."

"She knew I got you the best medical team. It was just a stupid prank to scare you."

Just as his pen left the paper, his assistant called. Talia was being harassed at some upscale lounge downtown.

Damian dropped the pen and ran.

He left in such a rush that he didn't even notice he had checked the wrong box for my blood type.

Then, the long-dormant System in my mind finally flickered to life: [Death by the male lead's hand will instantly complete the mission. Hemolytic shock from mismatched blood transfusion will trigger terminal failure. Does the Host accept the process?]

I stared at the dark red bag of blood the nurse was bringing over, and smiled.

"Let's begin."

"Are you sure about this, Mrs. Wayne? This is Type A blood," the nurse asked.

She held the bag up, the veins on the back of her hand bulging slightly under the tension. Her eyes were filled with hesitation, even panic.

"Give it to me," my voice was impossibly calm. "My husband signed the consent form himself. How could he possibly be wrong?"

The nurse bit her lip, let out a slow sigh, and tore open the sterile packaging of the IV line.

The thick needle slid smoothly into the vein on the back of my hand.

The dark fluid began its slow, rhythmic drip down the clear tubing, entering my bloodstream drop by drop.

The Systems mechanical voice chimed in my mind right on time.

[Host has accepted the incorrect blood type. Fatal hemolytic reaction countdown initiated. Time remaining: 72 hours.]

I closed my eyes. I could feel the foreign cells waging war inside my veins.

Within thirty minutes, a sharp, white-hot ache bloomed in my lower back, as if someone were methodically hammering a dull chisel into my bones. Shivers racked my body; I pulled the thin hospital blanket tight around me, but my teeth chattered uncontrollably.

Then, the door was kicked open.

Damian strode in, bringing with him the suffocating stench of expensive whiskey, stale smoke, and cheap club air. There were even a few tacky, iridescent sequins stuck to the collar of his bespoke Italian suit.

Behind him was Talia, entirely untouched.

She was wearing a provocative sequined slip dress, her eyes artistically rimmed with red. Like a startled fawn, she clung tightly to Damians sleeve.

"What kind of tantrum are you throwing now?" Damian demanded, standing over my bed. His brow was furrowed, his eyes dripping with irritation. "The doctor said you only have minor abrasions. Who are you putting on this shivering act for?"

I gritted my teeth, riding out a wave of agony in my kidneys. Cold sweat coated my forehead.

"I'm cold," I whispered through clenched teeth.

He scoffed, loosening his tie with an aggressive tug.

"Cold? The thermostat is set to seventy-eight degrees. You're telling me you're freezing?" He turned to Talia, his voice softening instantly. "Talia, go turn off the AC. Otherwise, your sister-in-law will just find another excuse to complain."

Talia nodded meekly and flicked the wall switch. Then she turned back, looking at me with wide, tearful eyes.

"Gemma, I'm so sorry. I swear I didn't mean to mess with your brakes."

"I just wanted to test my new exploit script. Damian already chewed me out. Please don't be mad at me, okay?"

She spoke softly, tears slipping down her cheeks.

Damian stepped forward, shielding her from my view.

"That's enough. Why are you apologizing to her?"

"She's lying there perfectly fine, isn't she?"

He glared at me.

"Gemma, Talia was almost assaulted at the club tonight."

"She's traumatized, yet she still came all this way to apologize."

"And you can't even offer a decent look? Don't you think you're taking this too far?"

I looked at his righteous face and felt a sudden, hysterical urge to laugh.

My car spun out of control on a mountain road, crashed through the guardrails, and nearly plunged into a ravine. I was pulled from the wreckage covered in blood.

And all he cared about was whether his precious little sister had her feelings hurt at a bar.

"She's traumatized?" My voice was raspy, scraping against my throat. "She went clubbing, got hit on, and that's trauma? What about me? I almost burned alive in that car. What does that count as?"

Damian's scowl deepened.

"Do you have to constantly bring up death?"

"I hired the best specialists in the city for you."

"Besides, your SUV has a top-of-the-line collision system. Talia calculated the impactshe knew you'd be fine."

Calculated.

I looked up at the IV bag. The dark red poison was dripping steadily, systematically destroying my organs.

Oh, yes. She calculated everything. She even calculated that today would be my last.

"Damian," I said, my voice as faint as a passing breeze. "What if I actually die?"

He froze for a fraction of a second, before a look of utter disgust replaced his hesitation.

"Are you really playing this card again?"

"Every time Talia makes a mistake, you threaten me with your life."

"Gemma, do you have any idea how exhausting you're being?"

He pulled up a chair and sat down, crossing his long legs.

"Stop acting."

"If you're really in pain, I'll have the nurse pump you full of painkillers."

"Talia is terrified tonight, so I'm staying with her. You can use this quiet time to reflect on your attitude."

I said nothing.

My temperature was soaring, and my vision was beginning to blur. My chest felt like a furnace, every breath a searing inhalation of ash.

The classic onset of acute hemolysis. My red blood cells were rupturing en masse.

"Is Gemma really okay?" Talia asked, peeking out from behind Damian's shoulder. "Her face is so red. Does she have a fever?"

Damian didn't even bother to look closely.

"Fever? She's just seething because I didn't drop everything to hold her hand."

He stood up, looming over my bed with cold eyes.

"Gemma, let me warn you one last time."

"Drop these pathetic, jealous mind games."

"Talia is my sister. I protect herthat's the way it is."

"If you treat her like garbage again, don't expect me to keep playing the doting husband."

I looked at him and forced a pale, bloodless smile.

"Alright."

"Then you make sure... you protect her well."

He sneered, grabbing Talia's hand.

"Let's go. Don't waste your breath on a crazy woman."

The door slammed shut.

I stared at the near-empty IV bag and closed my eyes.

"System. Turn up the pain suppression to the maximum."

[Understood, Host. Pain block initiated at 100%. Safe travels.]

The click of high heels signaled Talia's return. Damian wasn't with her.

Her vulnerable, tearful facade dissolved instantly, replaced by a cruel, smug satisfaction.

I ignored her. The fever had left my body weak, and my breath tasted of copper.

Talia walked over, casually tapping the IV line.

"Tsk, tsk. How pathetic."

"You know, Damian was just complaining in the hallway about how high-maintenance you are."

She leaned down, whispering mockingly. "He said you aren't worth a single hair on my head."

I forced my eyes open and looked at her coldly.

"Are you done?"

"If you are, get out."

Talia only laughed.

"Oh, Gemma, still so prideful. But don't worry, you won't be able to act tough for much longer."

She pulled a compact, hand-sized microcomputer from her designer bag. Her fingers flew over the keys, the screen casting a pale blue glow on her face.

"Damian thinks you're faking it, but I think you look a little too real."

"How about I make your medical charts look a bit more... authentic?"

The moment her fingers pressed enter, the multi-parameter monitor beside my bed screeches.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

The red warning lights flashed frantically. My heart rate spiked to 180 on the screen, while my blood pressure plummets past the critical threshold. The shrill alarm echoed down the entire corridor.

I watched her with flat, detached eyes. She wasn't just a hacker; she was a sociopath with no boundaries.

Frantic footsteps rushed down the hall.

"What happened?!" Damian burst in first, his face pale. A swarm of panicked doctors and nurses followed.

Talia, with practiced ease, had already slipped the device back into her bag. She cowered in the corner, covering her ears, trembling.

"Damian! I don't know! I didn't touch anything!"

"The machine just started screaming! I'm scared!"

She buried her face in his chest, sobbing hysterically. Damian wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back to soothe her.

The doctor rushed to my bedside, checking the wires.

"Strange. The patient's physical state looks stable, why did the monitor go off?"

He rebooted the system. Instantly, the vitals returned to normal on the screen.

Damian's expression darkened to a terrifying pitch. He calmed Talia down, then turned a murderous glare upon me.

"Gemma, is there no end to your antics?!" he roared. "To force me to stay, you're tampering with hospital equipment now?"

"Do you have any idea how many critical patients actually need these resources?!"

I lay there, looking at his furious face.

"You think I did this?"

I didn't even have the strength to lift my arm, let alone hack a closed-circuit medical monitor.

Damian laughed bitterly.

"Who else could it be?"

"You're so consumed by jealousy that you'll do anything to frame Talia!"

He stormed over and ripped the blanket off me.

"Get up!"

"Apologize to Talia. Right now!"

A wave of cold air hit my feverish skin. I broke into a violent fit of coughing, the metallic taste of blood pooling in the back of my throat.

I swallowed it down and look up at him with the eyes of someone staring at a corpse.

"Damian." I whispered. "Are you out of your mind?"

He froze. In our seven years of marriage, I had never spoken to him in this tone. I was always the gentle, accommodating, yielding wife.

"Did you just call me crazy?" he snarled, his knuckles whitening.

"I called you an idiot."

I calmly reached out and yanked the power cord of the monitor from the wall. The screeching alarm stopped. Silence descended.

"The next time you two want to play victim, leave me out of it," I said, turning my back to him. "It's disgusting."

Damian fustrates, his fists cracking.

"Fine. You want to be stubborn? Enjoy your own company then!"

"Let's see how long you can hold onto this pride!"

He grabbed Talia's hand.

"Damian, does Gemma really hate me?" Talia whimpered as they walked out.

"Ignore her. She's lost her mind."

Their footsteps faded. I closed my eyes and swallowed another mouthful of blood.

"System. How much time do I have?"

[Remaining time: 60 hours.]

"Perfect," I whispered. "Soon."

The TV in the room was playing softly in the background. A breaking news report flashed on screen.

"Wayne Group's proprietary autonomous driving system, Odyssey, has experienced a severe security breach. Earlier today, multiple vehicles equipped with the software lost control on the interstate, causing a massive ten-car pile-up. No fatalities have been reported yet..."

I leaned against my pillow, wiping the blood from my lip. My vision was doubling; my organs were actively shutting down.

Damian was standing by the window, screaming into his phone.

"What the hell is PR doing?! Bury the story! Spend whatever it takes!"

"Find a scapegoatblame a bug in the outsourced contractor's code!"

He ripped off his tie and hurled it onto the sofa. Talia was curled up in the corner, twisting her fingers with an innocent pout.

"Damian, I'm sorry... I just thought their core logic was so boring. I only added a little backdoor program to give them a surprise. I didn't think it would cause an actual crash..."

Damian sighed, walked over, and stroked her hair.

"It's fine. I'll handle it."

"Just don't do it again. The media loves to sensationalize these things. It's just a few fender benders; we'll pay them off."

A wave of nausea hit me. Dozens of lives on that highway. To him, it was just a little mischief and a settlement check.

Fighting the agony of organ failure, I pulled my laptop out from under my pillow. The familiar tactile feel of the keys helped me focus.

My fingers flew across the keyboard, typing lines of script.

Damian would try to wipe every trace of Talia's digital footprint. I had to pack and encrypt her raw files before I went.

The progress bar inched forward. My vision was nearly gone; I was typing entirely by muscle memory.

"What are you doing now?" Damian asked, hanging up. He noticed the laptop, walked over, and slammed the lid shut.

"The company is in crisis, and you're playing on your computer? Gemma, do you even have a heart?"

I looked up at his frantic, angry face.

"A heart?" I let out a dry laugh and spit a bloody glob of phlegm onto the floor. "Damian, you're harboring a criminal who actively endangered public safety, and you're lecturing me on having a heart?"

His face paled, his expression turning venomous.

"Watch your mouth!"

"Talia is just a girlwhat does she know?"

"Don't think because you sat at home all these years you understand how business works!"

Talia clung to his arm, looking at me.

"Gemma, are you going to report me because you hate me? But you don't have any proof."

She winked, her smile malicious.

"Damian already had all my logs deleted."

"Even if you call the cops, they won't believe a word."

I opened the laptop again.

"Is that so?"

I pressed enter. An encrypted package was sent to a cloud server.

It contained not just her tampering with the Odyssey system, but seven years of corporate espionage, server breaches, and stolen proprietary trade secrets.

"Gemma, I warned you!" Damian reached to snatch the laptop.

I pulled back, looking at him with absolute detachment.

"Relax. I didn't call the police."

"I'm just writing my will."

Damian's hand froze mid-air. He looked at my ghostly pale face, then scoffed.

"A will? For a minor accident? You're completely unhinged."

He grabbed Talia's arm.

"Let's go, Talia. Let her play her crazy games alone."

The moment the door clicked shut, my strength evaporated. I collapsed back onto the pillow. The scheduled email delivery program was active.

Timer set: three days after my death.

"System," I gasped, my breath shallow. "How long?"

[Remaining time: 12 hours. Total organ failure has begun.]

I looked out the window as night fell, and closed my eyes.

"Let's not wait."

The sterile room was quiet, save for my wet, struggling breaths. Hemolysis had reached its irreversible end. My kidneys had shut down, and my lungs were filling with fluid. Every breath felt like swallowing broken glass.

Outside, a sudden burst of fireworks illuminated the night sky, their thunderous booms echoing through the double-paned glass.

The System thoughtfully projected a virtual screen in my mind.

On it, I saw Damian. He had rented out the entire private amusement park on the waterfront for Talia. Under the dazzling display of lights, Talia wore a diamond tiara, smiling like a princess. Damian stood beside her, looking at her with indulgent affection.

"Congratulations on getting through this, Talia," he said, handing her a glass of champagne. "Whatever system you want to play with next, I'll buy you the company."

I looked at the screen and find I didn't even have the energy to scoff.

Suddenly, the hospital room door was thrown open. The night nurse took one look at me and screamed.

"Doctor! Code blue in room three! The patient is in shock!"

Chaos erupted. The crash cart was wheeled in; the bright surgical lights blinded my fading vision.

"Heart rate dropping! No blood pressure!"

"Push epinephrine, now!"

The doctors' desperate shouts sounded muffled, as if I were underwater.

"Where is the emergency contact? Get the husband on the phone for the DNR and death notice!"

A nurse frantically dialed Damian's number.

On my mental screen, Damian's phone vibrated in his pocket. He frowned and pulled it out. The caller ID read "Mercy Central Hospital."

Talia glanced at the screen and pouted. "Damian, Gemma is playing the boy-who-cried-wolf again. She's just mad because you're with me."

Damian sneered and pressed decline.

The nurse dialed again. This time, the call went straight to an automated message: "The number you have dialed is currently unavailable..."

He blocked me. He blocked the hospital.

"We can't get through! He blocked us!" the nurse cried out, on the verge of tears.

The doctor gritted his teeth, continuing chest compressions. "Keep going! Don't stop!"

I watched their futile efforts and issued my final command to the System.

"System. Press enter for me."

[Command confirmed. Scheduled files locked. Release set for 72 hours from now. Host, your vitals are flatlining.]

With my remaining strength, I looked out the window one last time. The final firework burst, then dissolved into pitch blackness.

Just like our seven years of marriage.

The monitor flatlines.

Beeeeeeeeeeeeep

The long, unbroken tone cut through the panic. I felt my body grow incredibly light.

[Congratulations, Host. Mission completed: 'Death by the hand of the Male Lead'. Transitioning protocols initiating. Please stand by.]

I opened my eyes and found myself floating above the room. Below, the doctors slowly stopped their compressions and pulled the white sheet over my face.

"Time of death: 2:14 AM."