Kiss Me, Kill Me

Chapter One

Jason Carter was on his knees in front of me, pleading.

“Emily, please, listen to me! She seduced me! I only love you. Just… give me another chance!”

He kept repeating himself, slapping his own face as if it would prove anything.

Sitting on the bed, wrapped in a blanket, Rachel Blake smirked—just slightly—watching the scene like it was a well-rehearsed play. They were both waiting to see how I’d react.

We were the couple everyone envied—family friends thought we were a match made in heaven. Our families did business together, and all the wedding invitations had already gone out. Everything was set.

But Rachel knew me too well.

She knew I was someone who couldn’t tolerate a single grain of betrayal.

And now that she’d slept with my fiancé… how could I still want him?

But if I walked away now, wouldn’t that be exactly what Rachel wanted?

The thought flipped a switch inside me. I calmly took out my phone and began recording the two of them.

“Jason Carter,” I said coldly, “if you still want to marry me, then go slap her. Fifty times.”

I pointed right at Rachel.

He froze, mouth half-open, not knowing what to say.

I cut him off. “Didn’t you say she seduced you? Didn’t you say you love me? Then prove it.”

Jason remained on his knees, looking up at me with desperate eyes.

Rachel glared at me like she wanted to kill me.

Seeing Jason still hesitating, I added fuel to the fire: “If you don’t hit her, I’ll post this online. Everyone will know what you two did. Our families will never do business again, and your reputation will be finished.”

“I just got off a flight. I’m exhausted. You’ve got three seconds to decide.”

“One…”

“Two…”

“…Wait! I’ll do it.”

Jason stood up and walked toward Rachel.

“What are you doing, Jason?!”

“Don’t listen to Emily Summers! You know how she is!”

“No matter what you do, she’ll never take you back—ah!”

Jason didn’t hold back. He hit Rachel again and again.

And yet… it didn’t make me feel any better.

I recorded just enough and walked out.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I just kept asking myself: why?

Why would Rachel do this to me?

I treated her better than her own mother ever did. Why would she stab me in the back?

Frustrated, I called her.

“Hello—?” She sounded annoyed, irritated even.

“Rachel…”

We’d been best friends since middle school. I didn’t even know how we’d ended up like this. No matter how angry I was, my mouth still called her by name—Rachel.

Maybe hearing me say that stirred something in her. Jason had hit her hard earlier that day.

“Are you okay?”

I couldn’t help but ask.

“Oh, Emily Summers, don’t pretend to care now,” she snapped coldly. “Stop acting like some tragic saint. Hurt me, then pretend you’re checking in like I’m supposed to thank you?”

“You called because you want to know why, right? Fine. I’ll tell you.”

“I just hate you. I hate how you have everything while I drown in the mud. Why should you get it all?”

“And Jason? You think he loves you? Don’t be so naïve. I’ve been sleeping with him for a long time. Not just him. Every one of your exes—I’ve slept with all of them.”

“They all said the same thing about you. That you’re boring in bed. Like a dead fish. No spark, no passion. Just lying there, lifeless…”

I hung up. I couldn’t take any more.

But Rachel wasn’t done.

A minute later, she sent me an audio file.

Jason’s voice.

“Rachel, I’ve liked you from the start. Emily Summers? She’s nothing compared to you. You’re like a sexy goddess. She’s like a corpse—cold, stiff, dead.”

“Just thinking about spending every day with her… it makes me want to die.”

I listened to that recording all night. I cried all night.

The pain in my chest didn’t stop.

What did I ever do to deserve this?

My family helped Jason’s business grow. Without us, he’d be nothing. And Rachel? Without me, she’d probably be working in some shady nightclub.

So why—why did the two people I cared about the most choose to hurt me the worst?

---

Chapter Two

A week passed.

Jason Carter tried to reach me countless times. He even waited outside my office building, but I avoided him like the plague.

“Ms. Summers, everything you asked for is done,” my assistant said, walking in and handing me a file.

“Thanks. Leave it on the desk and give me a moment.”

After she left, I stared at the file in silence for a while before dialing a number.

“Rachel. Let’s meet.”

“We’ve already ripped each other’s masks off. What’s left to say? Just tell me over the phone, or I’m hanging up.”

Rachel Blake sounded surprised—and annoyed.

Before she could hang up, I cut in. “I was going to ask you to dinner, but since you’re not interested, come to my office instead. I have something for you.”

Then I hung up before she could respond.

Ten minutes later, Rachel showed up.

“If you’re expecting me to quit on my own, think again. If you’re firing me, you’ll need to pay severance. Whatever you have to say, it won’t change that.”

She flopped onto my couch, legs crossed, casually helping herself to the fruit on the coffee table.

Suppressing a smirk, I picked up the file and walked over, placing it in front of her—not too close, not too far.

“Open it. It’s for you.”

“You’re not firing me?”

She looked confused, genuinely surprised.

I gave a small, tired smile. “Why would I? You’re one of our top performers. Letting you go would be the company’s loss.”

“Then… what’s this?”

“Open it and see.”

With slightly trembling hands, Rachel opened the folder and pulled out the contract inside. A property agreement—for a condo at Brighton Heights, the neighborhood she’d been obsessed with for years. The layout, the view—everything was exactly what she’d always wanted.

She looked up at me, baffled.

I smiled faintly. “After our call the other night, I did some thinking. You’ve always been loyal to the company—maybe more than I ever realized. I haven’t exactly been the best to you, have I? This isn’t compensation. It’s recognition.”

“This place will be gifted to you by the company during the year-end celebration.”

“And one more thing—I’m promoting you to Division Six Sales Manager.”

Rachel blinked at me, stunned.

“But… didn’t you say my education level was too low for management?”

“Technically, yes. Our company policy requires a college degree for managerial roles. But you’ve proven your worth with results and dedication. Rules can bend when the right person comes along. No one will argue.”

She opened her mouth several times, but no words came out.

I moved closer and gently held her hand.

“Rachel,” I said sincerely, “no matter what’s happened, we’ve always been like sisters. I may not have always seen things from your side, and I’m sorry for that.”

“Let’s just let the past stay in the past.”

“Emily…” Her voice cracked. “I’m sorry.”

Tears welled in her eyes as she clutched my hand.

We never spoke of Jason Carter again.

---

Chapter Three

The next day, I gave Rachel another gift.

I brought her mother to see her.

The moment Rachel saw her, her face froze, then twisted into fear. She yanked me behind her like a human shield.

“What are you doing here?” she snapped at her mother. “You want to hurt me, fine. But leave Emily out of it.”

“Go. If you don’t leave, I’m calling the police.”

No wonder she reacted like that—her mother had quite the past.

She used to work at a shady massage parlor. After giving birth to Rachel, she ran a home-based business… of the same nature.

Rachel once told me she knew about sex since she was in sixth grade. She knew which positions men liked best, what kind of moans excited them most.

She never tried to hide what her mom did for a living.

To her, it was just a way to survive—no different from washing dishes or scrubbing floors.

At the time, I admired her honesty. It felt raw. Real.

But at some point, things changed. Rachel began to hate her mother.

It probably started in high school.

She was dating a guy named Blade—a street-tough type. On her birthday, he offered to take us out to dinner. On the way, a boy who had a crush on her tried to grab her hand. Blade saw it and beat the guy up.

He didn’t even hit him that hard.

But the boy—being dramatic—started complaining of dizziness and numbness. And to make things worse, he was the principal’s son.

The school took it seriously. Blade got arrested. Rachel was facing expulsion.

Her mother panicked. Alone and powerless, she did the only thing she thought she could.

She seduced the principal.

It worked. Rachel kept her spot at school.

But the story got out somehow. Rumors flew. Ugly ones.

Our homeroom teacher—who also happened to be the principal’s wife—used to really like Rachel. But after that, she started looking at her with these strange, cold eyes.

Rachel couldn’t take it. One day, she saw the principal leaving her house and everything clicked. She couldn’t face anyone. She dropped out.

After that, her mom quit sex work. But she spiraled—drinking, gambling, barely human anymore.

Rachel had always dreamed of owning her own place. Her own home. She finally saved enough for a down payment—but then her mom’s creditors came knocking.

Years of saving, gone in a flash.

How could she not hate her?

Now, standing there, her mother could barely speak. Just cried and cried.

I gently pulled Rachel’s hand away and stepped beside her mother.

“Rachel, I invited Mrs. Blake here,” I said softly.

“You’re doing well now. You’ve made a name for yourself. But no matter what, she’s still your mother. You can’t treat her like this.”

Rachel didn’t answer.

I took another file out of my bag and handed it to her.

“It’s a lease agreement—for a store right beneath your new condo. I’ve rented it for a year. Your mom can open a beauty salon. Maybe it’s time to try living like a real family.”

And there it was.

The second she heard family, the ice on her face began to melt. She gripped the paper tightly, eyes shining with emotion, but too choked up to speak.

Who would’ve believed that just a week ago, we were ready to kill each other over a man? Now here we were—hugging, laughing, talking about healing.

“You’re my best friend for life,” Rachel whispered.

I didn’t say anything.

But I hugged her tighter.

Because I knew exactly what she’d always wanted.

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