Eclipse by Deception

The evening smelled of sea salt and betrayal. The sky above the De La Rosa estate blushed with the last hues of sunset, casting a warm, deceptive glow over the pool deck. Soft music floated from the speakers, and the air buzzed with the scent of freshly cut roses-Rachel's favorite. But beneath the elegance, something felt... off.

Rachel De La Rosa adjusted the silk strap of her emerald gown, the fabric cool against her skin. She felt exposed-not by the dress, but by the eyes watching her. She glanced sideways at Annabelle, her husband's assistant. The woman was radiant tonight, too radiant for someone attending her anniversary dinner.

"I know he'll be overjoyed to see you," Annabelle said, her voice honeyed as she guided Rachel toward the pool. "He planned everything himself. A perfect night for a perfect wife."

Rachel's lips curved into a small smile, but her gut twisted. "Do you think so?" she asked, her voice soft, almost shy.

Annabelle's answering smile was too quick. "I know so."

The heels of Rachel's stilettos clicked softly against the polished tiles as they approached the poolside. Candles flickered in tall glass cylinders, casting golden halos on the water's surface. The pool's deep, sapphire hue reflected the night sky-serene, inviting.

Then, she saw him.

Peter Harlow, her husband. Tall, sharp-featured, and devastatingly charming-the man she had fallen for. Her lifeline. He stood beneath an arch of roses, holding a bouquet of white lilies-her wedding flowers. His smile stretched wide, but his eyes... His eyes were cool. Calculating.

Tonight, she was going to make him happy with the ownership transfer of her wealth. He deserved it-She wanted nothing more than to make him the happiest man alive cause she had been the happiest woman after their marriage.

Her heart, foolish and hopeful, fluttered. "Peter..."

"Happy anniversary, my love." His voice was velvet, rich, and familiar. He extended the lilies toward her. She reached out, but...

"Let me hold that for you, Miss De La Rosa," Annabelle interjected smoothly, plucking Rachel's purse and jacket from her arm.

Rachel's smile faltered, but she let go. Her hands, suddenly empty, felt cold.

Peter opened his arms. "Come to me."

She took a step forward, and then-

A shove. Hard. Unrelenting.

The world tilted. The cool rush of air. The sudden, shocking plunge.

The water swallowed her whole.

Rachel's body hit the pool with a sharp slap. The cold was instant, a merciless embrace. She twisted, her gown billowing like a cloud around her. Panic seized her chest. She kicked up, breaking the surface, gasping-

But the air burned her throat. A raw, chemical sting. Chlorine.

No-No!

Her body convulsed. Her throat tightened. She coughed, but the water invaded, choking her. She thrashed, her limbs sluggish, her muscles weakening.

Above her, distorted by the rippling water, two figures stood at the pool's edge.

Peter.

Annabelle.

They were... watching. Not moving. Not helping.

Rachel's vision blurred. Her chest screamed for air, and her mind reeled. Why aren't they helping me?

Peter raised his glass. His lips moved-she read them even through the water:

"To us."

Beside him, Annabelle laughed softly, clinking her glass to his. They drank.

The wine-The wine she had got at an expensive rate. Château Margaux–sold at over $200,000.

She had thought they would share it to celebrate four years of marriage.

But they were celebrating something else.

Rachel's mind splintered between the burn in her chest and the searing realization: They planned this.

Her arms flailed weakly. She could swim-she should be able to swim-but the chlorine was a weapon, stripping her strength and tightening her throat. She was drowning not because she couldn't swim, but because they knew she couldn't survive this water.

The pool was always filled with seawater. She was allergic to chlorine. Peter knew that.

He knew.

Above, through the water's haze, a shadow moved, trembling and contemplating.

Rosetta.

Was she in on it too?

Rachel's heart lurched. Her head cook. She was there-she saw. What had she done to deserve this cruelty?

Rosetta's body tensed, her eyes wide with horror, her fists clenched. Her foot shifted as if to rush forward-

But Peter's cold voice pierced the night. "Don't."

Rosetta froze. Her hands trembled at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. Rachel could see the battle in her eyes-obedience or defiance. But Peter's gaze was a loaded gun, and she was unarmed.

Yet... in the flicker of candlelight-Rachel saw something else. Resolve.

She knows something.

The water pulled her down. Her lungs screamed. Her limbs weakened. Her vision... dimmed.

Darkness

Her world went black.

The last thing she felt-

Was cold.

Rachel awoke to a soft, rhythmic beeping. The air smelled sterile. Her body felt... foreign. Heavy. Her throat is raw. A sharp sting pinched her arm-an IV. She blinked, and the world came into focus:

A hospital room. Dim. Quiet.

Beside her-Rosetta. Her face pale and drawn, her eyes red-rimmed with exhaustion.

"You're... alive," Rosetta whispered, her voice cracking. Relief flooded her expression. "Thank God."

Rachel's lips parted, her voice barely a whisper. "How...? Where am I? What happened?"

Rosetta's eyes flickered with something fierce. " We're in my son's hospital, Miss Rachel; They left you for dead. But I wouldn't let them have you. I-" Her voice broke, then firmed. "I gave you something-a drug. Slowed your heart. They thought you were gone."

Rachel's heart, fragile but steady, pounded against her ribs. "Why...?"

Rosetta's jaw tightened. "Because they wanted you out of the way. And they got what they wanted." Her voice dropped to a bitter whisper. "He owns everything now."

Bewildered, "What do you mean?" She choked back the burning sensation in her throat. "I...I...I did give him everything, why would he try to kill me?"

A chill seeped into Rachel's bones-colder than the pool. "The pool... The cameras?"

Rosetta's gaze was like steel. "They will try to fabricate how you got in the pool. I overheard them, and I was caught, but they needed me alive to testify against you and your supposed killer."

"What do you mean?"

"They had Invited your stepbrother to the party; they will try and get him drunk to make a horrible mistake and pin your death on him, Miss Rachel. I'm sorry you had to go through this. I tried to tell you, but they wouldn't let me, and they threatened to hurt my son-I didn't have a choice. I'm sorry" Rosetta bursts out crying.

***********

Spending almost a month in the hospital Rachel tried to make out a reason why her husband and his assistant would want to kill her. Peter Loved her, what had made him want to kill her? She needs to find out.

The beeping of the monitor quickened, mirroring the thundering of Rachel's heart. Rage-cold, sharp, and all-consuming-ignited within her.

Her voice, hoarse but unbroken, sliced through the silence.

"He took everything." Her fingers curled into the hospital sheets. "My love. My trust. My life." She lifted her gaze to Rosetta and, in her eyes, burned a promise.

"I'll take it all back."

Rosetta's lips pressed into a firm line. "Good." She reached forward, covering Rachel's hand with her own. "But you can't return as Rachel De La Rosa." Her eyes darkened with warning. "To the world... Rachel is dead."

A beat of silence. Then-

Rachel's lips curled into something cold, something deadly. "Then let's bury her."

The old Rachel-the trusting wife, the doting partner-was gone. Drowned in that pool.

In her place...

A shadow. A survivor. A hunter cloaked in the skin of a ghost.