Jessica's POV.
I sat alone in my penthouse, the air thick with smoke and the bitter scent of whiskey. I took another long drag from my cigarette, the embers glowing like the fury in my chest. I poured myself another drink, the amber liquid sloshing over the rim as my hands trembled.
Fat, pathetic Seraphina. The name echoed in my mind like a mocking refrain. How could it be her? How could the same weak, submissive woman turn into this... Allison? She was the one at the elite boutique, the one who had beaten up my bodyguards and slapped me around like I was nothing. She had this perfect body now, confident and powerful, while I was left behind, burning with jealousy.
I screamed, throwing the empty glass across the room. It shattered against the wall, mirroring the pieces of my crumbling sanity. Williams had seen her. He had looked at her with regret, with longing. No wonder he wasn’t close to me anymore. He was still in love with her. The bitch.
I grabbed the bottle and took a swig, the whiskey burning its way down my throat. It did nothing to dull the pain, the rage. I was losing. Me, Jessica, losing to Seraphina. It was unbearable.
I thought back to that moment at the boutique. The humiliation. How she had changed so much, become everything I was not. Perfect. Confident. Strong. And me? I was nothing but a shadow, a reminder of what Williams had thrown away.
I shouted again, my voice hoarse from screaming. "I hate you, Seraphina! I hate you!" The words echoed in the empty room, a futile declaration of my impotent rage.
I took another drag from my cigarette, my hands shaking so badly I could barely hold it. I couldn’t let her win. I couldn’t let her take everything from me. But what could I do? She was better than me now, in every way. And Williams saw it. He knew it.