Playlist of Death

During my third year with Nolan, a gray-covered playlist suddenly popped up on my Spotify account.

The creation date was marked ten years in the future.

Thinking it was just a weird app glitch, I clicked on it. What came through the speakers wasn't music.

It was the sound of my own weeping.

Nolan, please, just look at me. I'm begging you...

"I gave my kidney to your mother. I quit my career to serve your family hand and foot. Ann hasn't lifted a finger, so why did you choose her over me?"

Immediately after, an unfamiliar woman's voice chimed in. She sounded lazy, dripping with amusement.

"Sister, does he really need a reason? Look at yourself. You're a washed-up, miserable housewife. If I were Nolan, I'd be disgusted by you too."

Nolan's voice finally came through. It was chillingly calm, as if he were discussing the weather.

"Just sign the papers, Cindy. You walk away with nothing. Let's not make this ugly."

Then came a long, suffocating silence.

Followed by the automated recording of a 911 dispatch call. The operator kept repeating, "Hello? 911, what is your emergency? Hello?"

No one answered.

At the very bottom of the playlist description, written in a font so small it was almost invisible, was a single line of text:

The wedding ring he bought her was paid for with the compensation money from your extracted kidney.

Right as I locked my phone screen, a text from Nolan popped up.

"Sweetheart, come with me to my mom's house tomorrow. Her kidney issues are flaring up again. She wants to talk to you about something important."

I stared at the glowing screen and took a screenshot of the message.

Whatever they wanted to "talk" about tomorrow, I already knew the punchline.

...

I kept staring at the screenshot, the icy chill of that bizarre audio recording still clinging to my fingertips.

Ten years from now, I would die alone, clutching a phone connected to a silent 911 operator.

But right now, the nightmare was only just beginning.

I typed a simple "Okay" and spent the rest of the night staring into the darkness.

The next morning, I pushed open the front door of the Davis family home.

The smell of home-cooked food hit me instantly, but underneath it was a cloying, heavy scent of jasmine perfume.

"Cindy! You made it."

A lazy, overly sweet voice drifted from the hallway.

Ann strolled out of the kitchen wearing the silk apron that belonged to me, carrying a plate of sweet and sour ribs. She smiled radiantly, acting as if she were the lady of the house.

"Nolan is in the study helping Auntie look for her meds. Wash your hands, we're about to eat."

Watching the smug curve of her lips, my mind instantly overlaid her voice with the one from the recordingthe woman who had mocked me as a "washed-up housewife."

That same heavy jasmine perfume had lingered on Nolan's coat just last week. When I confronted him, he swore that a clumsy new intern had bumped into him at a company dinner.

Now I knew that "intern" was Ann, the girl he had grown up with, his sweet little "honorary sister."

I ignored her pathetic attempt to play hostess and walked straight into the living room without taking off my shoes.

Mrs. Davis was slumped on the sofa, clutching a medical report. She did look genuinely pale and sickly.

Nolan walked out of the study holding a glass of warm water. When he saw me, his face lit up, and he hurried over to wrap his arm around my shoulders.

"Sweetheart, thanks for coming over on a weekend."

His voice was so warm. The heat from his palm bled through the fabric of my blouse.

Usually, I would have leaned into his embrace. But today, my stomach violently churned.

I shifted my weight, subtly slipping out of his grip, and sat down on the single armchair.

"How is your mom feeling? What did the doctors say?"

Hearing my question, Mrs. Davis's eyes instantly filled with tears. She pulled out a tissue and began dabbing at her eyes.

"The doctor said conservative treatments aren't working anymore. I absolutely need a kidney transplant."

Nolan let out a heavy sigh, sitting down next to her and holding her hand.

"But finding a donor organ is nearly impossible. The national waitlist is years long, and my mom's body simply can't hold out that long."

Right on cue, Ann walked into the living room, placing the plate of ribs on the coffee table. Her voice cracked with manufactured grief.

"If only my blood type was a match! I would gladly give my life for Auntie. But I'm Type B, and she's Type O."

She turned her head, locking her gaze dead onto me.

"Cindy, didn't you say you were Type O?"

The air in the living room suddenly froze.

Mrs. Davis stopped sobbing. Nolan snapped his head up, staring at me with burning intensity.

Three pairs of eyes. Three expectant faces. All waiting for me to throw myself into their sacrificial meat grinder.

I picked up a glass of water from the table, my thumb casually tracing the warm rim.

"Yeah. I'm Type O."

Nolan's eyes lit up like fireworks. His tone shifted, becoming carefully, calculatingly gentle.

"Sweetheart, I know this is an insane thing to ask, but... could you go to the hospital and get tested to see if you're a match?"

He swallowed hard, laying it on thick.

"If you're a match, I swear to God I will treat you like an absolute queen for the rest of our lives. I'll do all the chores, I'll give you every cent of my paycheck. Please."

I looked at his devoted, desperate face, while the echo of his cold, future voice"walk away with nothing"rang endlessly in my ears.

I swallowed the bitter bile rising in my throat and set the glass down.

"Sure. I'll take a sick day tomorrow and go get tested."

Mrs. Davis immediately clasped her hands together in prayer, praising God and calling me the best future daughter-in-law in the world.

Standing off to the side, Ann smirked.

"Wow, Cindy, you're so brave. I could never let someone slice me open with a scalpel."

I pulled my hand out of Mrs. Davis's grasp and looked directly at Nolan.

"But Nolan, a kidney transplant is a major surgery. The post-op recovery requires long-term, round-the-clock care."

"My current project at work is in a critical phase. I won't be able to take months off to nurse her."

Nolan didn't hesitate for a single second.

"Your health and my mom's life are way more important than some job! If you're a match, just quit your job. I make enough to support us both."

"Besides, staying home to take care of my mom is a great way to prep for our married life together."

I stared at him and let out a soft, amused breath.

"And what if I'm not a match?"

Nolan flinched, clearly not expecting the question.

"Whether you match or not, I'm going to take care of you for the rest of your life."

I stood up and grabbed my purse.

"Don't worry about it. I have some emails to catch up on. I'm heading back to the office."

Nolan scrambled up to walk me out, but I shut him down, saying I had already called an Uber.

As I closed the car door, I glanced up. Standing in the living room window, Ann lifted her chin and shot me a deeply arrogant, victorious smirk.

Mercy General Hospital. I sat on a hard plastic chair with my lab slip, waiting for my blood draw.

Nolan had promised to come with me, but half an hour ago he texted saying an "emergency morning meeting" had popped up at work.

I texted back "No worries," and locked my phone.

"Number thirty-five. Cindy."

The nurse at the triage desk called my name. I stood up and walked over.

The phlebotomist was quick and efficient. As the needle pierced my vein, I barely winced.

"Miss, your boyfriend didn't come with you today?"

The nurse asked casually while pressing a cotton swab over the puncture site.

I looked up. "You remember him?"

She smiled, dropping the vials of blood into a rack. "Yeah, of course. Didn't he come with you for your physical a few months ago?"

"Actually, he was just here last week. He brought a younger girl in to do a kidney donor match test. She was Type O, too."

She leaned in, lowering her voice, a mix of juicy gossip and pity in her eyes.

"That poor girl was terrified of needles. She cried her eyes out over a simple blood draw. Your boyfriend was babying her the whole time, hugging her, stroking her hair... It was hard to forget."

My fingers tightened violently over the cotton swab. My knuckles turned stark white.

"That girl... did she have long hair, a beauty mark near her mouth, and smell like heavy jasmine perfume?"

The nurse nodded, looking a little surprised. "Yeah, exactly! Is she your little sister or something?"

I forced my facial muscles into a stiff, dead smile.

"Something like that. She's his honorary little sister."

Leaving the lab, I didn't head for the exit. I walked straight up to the Nephrology Department and found the attending physician.

Dr. Chen was a man in his late fifties. When I knocked and entered, he was updating a patient chart.

"Dr. Chen? I'm Nolan's fiance. I wanted to ask about Mrs. Davis's condition."

He looked up over the rim of his glasses. "Ah, Cindy, right? Did you get your blood drawn for the matching process?"

"Just finished. Actually, I wanted to askhas anyone else come in recently to see if they were a donor match?"

Dr. Chen clicked through his computer records.

"Yes, a relative named Ann got tested last week. Her results came back two days ago."

I stared dead into his eyes. "Was she a match?"

He nodded, his tone strictly professional. "Her markers were highly compatible. She is a virtually perfect donor. However, she explicitly stated she was unwilling to donate, and we obviously cannot force her."

A wave of surreal, freezing horror washed over me, chilling me to the bone.

Ann wasn't just Type O blood. She was already a confirmed match.

But yesterday, sitting in that living room, she had looked me dead in the eye and lied, claiming she was Type B and would "give her life" if she could.

And Nolan... Nolan had held her hand while she got her blood drawn. He knew the results. Yet he sat there and watched her put on an Oscar-worthy performance to gaslight me.

Then he had the nerve to use emotional blackmail to drag me to this hospital.

They had it all mapped out. Ann's body was too precious to scar, but I was just a walking, talking organ farm ready to be harvested.

I walked out of Dr. Chen's office and dialed Nolan's number.

It rang for a long time before he finally answered. In the background, I could hear the faint sound of running water.

"Sweetheart, what's up? Are you done with the test?"

His voice was perfectly warm, laced with the raspy edge of someone who had just woken up.

Listening to the running water, the temperature in my eyes dropped to absolute zero.

"Where are you?"

"At the office. I just got out of that brutal meeting, splashing some water on my face in the restroom."

Through the receiver, I heard an incredibly faint, soft, nasal woman's voice.

"Nolan... where did you put my bra?"

The call disconnected instantly.

I stood by the ventilation window in the hospital corridor, staring down at the endless stream of traffic, fighting back the urge to violently vomit.

I finally understood why ten-years-in-the-future me had ended up dead on the floor.

I had severely underestimated the depths of human depravity, and I had grossly overestimated Nolan's humanity.

Ten minutes later, Nolan called back.

"Sweetheart, I am so sorry. My phone battery completely died. Did the blood work go okay? What did the doctor say?"

His performance was utterly flawless. Not a single crack in his armor.

I looked at my own pale reflection in the glass window and kept my voice perfectly flat.

"It went fine. They said the results will take a few days."

"Thank you so much, sweetheart. I have to work late tonight, so don't wait up for me. Get some sleep."

I hung up the phone and immediately called an Uber straight to Nolan's office.

The receptionist recognized me. She opened her mouth to say hello, but I put a finger to my lips, silencing her.

I walked quietly to Nolan's private office. The door wasn't completely shut. A sliver of space remained.

Ann was sitting on Nolan's mahogany desk, swinging her bare legs, holding a cup of coffee.

"Nolan, you seriously made her go do the match test?"

Nolan leaned back in his leather executive chair, reaching out to pinch her cheek.

"What was I supposed to do? Let them cut you open? You're terrified of needles, baby. I'd never let them hurt you."

Ann giggled, a sharp, grating sound.

"But what if she's a match? Are you really going to make her give up a kidney? Won't she throw a fit?"

Nolan let out a condescending sneer.

"She's obsessed with me. I feed her a few romantic lines and she practically kisses my feet."

"Once they take her kidney, she'll be too weak to work. She'll be trapped at home, totally dependent on my paycheck. At that point, I own her."

I pulled out my phone, hit the voice memo app, and recorded every single disgusting word.

When I had enough, I turned around and walked out of the building like a ghost.

The lawyer handling my case was Gavin, a senior from my college who specialized in high-stakes corporate and marital asset litigation.

I sent him the audio file along with six months of Nolan's bank statements.

"Gavin, I'm fairly certain he's siphoning off our joint assets."

Gavin pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, tapping a pen against several massive withdrawals.

"Your instincts are spot on. These transfers were flagged as 'business investments,' but the ultimate shell account they land in belongs to a woman named Ann."

He looked up at me, his expression turning grim.

"Also, I pulled his credit history. Last month, he dropped a massive deposit at Cartier for a three-carat diamond ring. Paid in full."

I froze.

A three-carat ring. Nolan had never even officially proposed to me.

For three years, he fed me the same garbage excusehis career wasn't stable enough, he wanted to give me a perfect wedding, we needed to wait.

"Who was the ring shipped to?"

Gavin slid a printed invoice across the desk.

Printed crystal clear at the top was a single name: Ann.

I stared at the paper, suddenly overwhelmed by an intense wave of pity for the version of me from the future.

He used the payout money from my harvested kidney to buy her a wedding ring.

I didn't even need to wait for the future. The betrayal was happening right now.

"Cindy, you two aren't legally married yet. But that media firm you built together? You provided seventy percent of the startup capital, but he's listed as the sole legal CEO."

Gavin tapped the desk with a heavy rhythm.

"He's clearly setting up a hostile freeze-out. He wants to drain your accounts, take your company, and apparently, harvest your organs before he tosses you to the curb."

I took a deep breath, gathering the explosive documents and shoving them into my designer bag.

"I understand. Gavin, draft up an aggressive equity clawback agreement for the company, and prep the demand letters for every single cent he embezzled."

"When the time is right, I'm going to rip it all out of his throat with interest."

By the time I left the law firm, the city was dark.

I went back to the luxury apartment I shared with Nolan. I turned on the lights and stared at the sickening domesticity of it all.

The matching couples' slippers in the entryway. The framed photos on the wall. The succulents he supposedly planted just for me on the balcony.

Every single object was screaming at me, mocking my absolute stupidity.

I walked into the master bedroom, knelt down, and pulled out the hidden floor safe where we kept our emergency joint funds.

The passcode was my birthday.

I punched in the numbers. Click. The heavy steel door swung open.

It was completely empty.

The three hundred thousand dollars in high-yield bonds we had saved up? Gone. A solid gold heirloom necklace my late mother had left me? Gone.

I calmly shut the safe, snapped a picture of the empty interior, and texted it to Gavin as supplemental evidence.

Just as the text went through, the front door unlocked.

Nolan walked in, holding a brown paper bag from my favorite dumpling spot downtown.

"Sweetheart, I'm home. God, today was a nightmare. I was grinding at the office all night. Look, I brought your favorites."

He walked over, his face plastered with fake exhaustion, and leaned in to kiss me.

I tilted my head, letting his lips graze the air past my cheek.

"What's wrong? Are you stressed about the test? Talk to me."

Completely oblivious to the radioactive anger radiating off me, he set the food on the dining table and wrapped his arms around my waist from behind.

"My mom actually called me today. She said if you really are a match, we're going to buy you the best post-op care money can buy."

He rested his chin on my shoulder, his voice as soft as poisoned honey.

"Hey, sweetheart... if the test is a match, why don't you sign over your equity shares in the media firm to me? You'll need to stay home and rest, and I don't want you stressing over corporate drama. I'll take care of the business. You just take care of yourself."

I stared at our reflection in the dark glass of the living room window.

"Sign them over to you? We built that company together."

Nolan let out a soft, dismissive chuckle, sounding totally entitled.

"We're basically married, Cindy. What's yours is mine, right? You're going to be weak, and I just want to protect you. Besides, my money is your money."

I spun around, locking eyes with him.

"And what if I say no?"

Nolan's perfectly constructed mask slipped for a fraction of a second. His jaw tightened, but he quickly forced the loving smile back onto his face.

"Babe, why are you being so paranoid all of a sudden? I'm trying to look out for you. Don't you trust me?"

Looking at his disgustingly fake face, I forced down the urge to vomit right on his shoes.

"Of course I trust you. Let's just talk about it later. The test results aren't even back yet."

Hearing me back down, Nolan let out a quiet sigh of relief.

"Okay, whatever you want. Oh, by the way, my mom wants to invite your parents over for a big dinner this weekend. We want to officially announce our engagement."

An engagement?

I laughed internally. He was going to use a massive, public engagement party to socially back me into a corner and force me onto the operating table.

I nodded slowly. "Sounds great. I'll let my parents know."

Watching Nolan happily hum a tune as he walked into the bathroom to shower, I picked up the bag of my favorite dumplings and dropped it straight into the trash can.

The results came back on a gloomy Thursday afternoon.

Dr. Chen called me personally to tell me my genetic markers were a perfect match for Mrs. Davis. The transplant could proceed immediately.

I thanked him calmly and sent a two-word text to Nolan.

"It's a match."

Three seconds later, my phone exploded. Nolan's voice was vibrating with barely contained euphoria.

"Are you serious, sweetheart?! Oh my god, that's amazing! You saved her life! You are our family's absolute savior!"

I pulled the phone away from my ear, letting his nauseating praise play on speaker.

"You have to dress up for the engagement party this weekend. I've invited my entire extended family. I'm going to stand on stage and thank you in front of everyone."

He paused, his voice dropping into a sickeningly sweet register.

"And while we're at it... let's just get the consent forms signed, okay? The doctor said we need to move fast."

I looked out at the rolling gray storm clouds outside my office window and smiled coldly.

"Can't wait. See you this weekend."