Fake Date, Real Fate-Chapter 139: A Spa Day to Die For

⚠️ Content Warning: This Chapter contains a brief scene involving sauna entrapment and eye irritation. If you’re sensitive to claustrophobic scenarios or physical distress, please proceed with care. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

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I hadn’t even finished my morning coffee when the driver pulled up outside.

Black car, glinting rims, glossy like it had never known the horrors of any traffic or damage. The man who stepped out wore a suit nicer than my entire month’s wardrobe and greeted me with a bow.

A literal bow.

God help me.

I slid into the backseat in soft cream pants and an oversized oatmeal sweater like Elise had requested—comfy, non-corporate. My hair was in a claw clip. I felt... cozy. And wildly underqualified for whatever this day was about to be.

The car pulled to a gentle stop in front of what looked like a luxury sanctuary—floor-to-ceiling glass, pale stone columns, and blooming white orchids curling around the entrance like something out of a dream.

The driver came around and opened the door for me. I stepped out, brushing invisible lint from my sweater, then tucked my hair behind my ears.

The morning air was light, warm, the kind of expensive quiet that made you lower your voice without realizing.

"Isabella!"

I turned just as Elise came to me, glowing like someone who had never known the concept of stress. She was in pale pink silk, her perfume hugged her skin like an expensive secret.

She pulled me into a warm hug. "Darling, I’m so glad you made it."

"Me too," I said, a little dazed.

And then—

"Hi, Isabella."

My spine stiffened at the voice.

I turned.

Clara.

Blond hair in a perfect ponytail. Skin like she’d never missed a drop of water or a dollar of skincare. She was in a cream cashmere set that probably cost more than my rent.

I blinked. "Clara? What... how?"

She laughed, soft and breezy. "I live at the Walton family villa. I noticed Elise was getting ready for a spa day and begged her to let me tag along. She tried to say no, but I pulled the pitiful orphan card."

Elise chuckled beside her. "I couldn’t resist."

Clara turned back to me, eyes wide and almost guilty. "You’re not mad, right? I didn’t mean to intrude."

I smiled. "No, of course not. I’m happy you’re here."

And weirdly... I meant it. Clara had been nothing but kind. Supportive, even. She’d helped smooth over the tension from yesterday, given me coffee, chocolate, and compliments.

"Welcome, ladies!" the spa staff greeted us, immediately ushering us inside. The faint scent of lavender and warm oils filled the air as we entered.

Elise looked positively radiant, her smile enough to make anyone feel at ease. Clara, on the other hand, glided through the door with an air of casual superiority, as though this was simply another day in paradise for her.

"Isabella, darling, just relax. We’re going to spoil you today," Elise said, squeezing my hand. I nodded, though a little anxious.

"Just breathe. Everything is going to be perfect," Clara added, with that soft smile that somehow always felt a little too practiced.

The spa’s atmosphere was designed for relaxation—soft lights, soothing music, and the sound of water flowing from nearby fountains. We were escorted to our private suite where we were instructed to change into plush robes and slippers.

Everything was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

*****

The first thing that went wrong happened in the sauna.

Elise had gone for a facial. Clara and I stepped into the soft, steamy room, towels wrapped around us. It was nearly empty—just soft lighting and the scent of orange peel and sandalwood in the air.

"I’ll go grab us some cold towels," Clara offered with a smile.

I nodded, leaning back with a sigh as the heat soaked into my skin.

But ten minutes later, sweat dripping, the heat beginning to blur my thoughts, I moved toward the door to crack it open—just for a little air.

It didn’t budge.

I blinked. Pressed harder.

Nothing.

Panic flickered in my chest. "Hello?" I called out, voice muffled.

I knocked once. Then harder.

Still nothing.

The air grew thick, humid, pressing in on my lungs. My pulse began to hammer against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat in the oppressive quiet. I tried the door again, shoving with my shoulder, then both hands, grunting with effort.

It was definitely stuck, or locked.

"Is anyone out there?" I yelled, my voice cracking with rising desperation. The heat was intensifying, blurring the edges of my vision.

A dizzying wave washed over me. Sweat stung my eyes, pouring down my face, clinging to my hair.

My throat felt like sandpaper. How long had I been in here? It felt like an eternity, but it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes since Clara left.

Fifteen minutes. And she still wasn’t back with those towels.

My heart thudded against my ribs. The comfortable warmth of minutes ago had transformed into a suffocating inferno. My skin felt raw, my head pounded. I stumbled back from the door, gasping for air that felt increasingly thin. This wasn’t right. Saunas usually had easily operable doors for safety... right?

Just as a tendril of genuine fear tightened around my chest, a muffled voice registered from outside.

Then a click.

The door swung inward with a soft creak.

I practically fell out, gulping in the cooler air of the changing area. My legs felt like jelly, and my vision swam—Clara, wide-eyed and breathless.

"Oh my God, Isabella! Are you okay? I came back and the door wouldn’t open—I had to find a staff member with the emergency key."

A spa attendant, a young woman with a serene expression that didn’t quite hide her own concern, nodded gravely behind Clara. "We are so terribly sorry, miss. It seems the latch mechanism got jammed. We’ve called maintenance immediately. Are you feeling faint? We can get you some water, a cold compress..."

I just nodded, leaning heavily against the doorframe, trying to catch my breath. My throat felt like it had been scraped with sandpaper, and the inside of my head hummed with a detached, disoriented buzz. "Water," I croaked, my voice a raspy whisper.

Clara was instantly by my side, her arm around my waist, guiding me to a plush bench nearby. "You’re so pale, Izzy. Here, sit down. I was so worried when I couldn’t open it. I ran straight to find someone." Her voice was high, laced with what sounded like genuine panic. She pulled over a small table, already placing a cool glass of water in my hand. "Drink this slowly."

I took a shaky gulp, the cold liquid a shock to my parched throat. The attendant hurried off, returning moments later with a damp, icy cloth. Clara gently took it from her and pressed it to my forehead.

"Thank you. I—I thought I was stuck." I mumbled, closing my eyes, the cold a welcome relief against my throbbing temples.

"I’m so sorry. That should’ve never happened. I’m going to tell Elise."

I gripped her hand. "No, please. It’s fine. Just... thank you."

She gave me a tight, comforting smile.

--

Next came the eye treatment.

A cooling mask. Soft music. And cucumber slices delicately placed over my lids.

A second later, I hissed.

My eyes burned. Not a soft tingle, but a full-on sting—like someone had rubbed them with ghost peppers.

"My eyes!" I cried out, tearing the cucumber slices away. My vision blurred through a deluge of tears, and a searing pain shot through my eyeballs. It felt like I’d just stared directly into a sun made of nettles. I slapped my hands over my face, desperate to stop the burning.

My heart pounded violently against my chest. My fingers clenched around the cold edge of the spa chair, grounding me against the rising tide of panic.

"Isabella!" Elise’s voice was sharp with alarm. "What’s wrong?" She was instantly at my side, her cool hands gently trying to pull my own away. "Let me see, darling. What is it?"

A spa attendant, who had been quietly arranging products nearby, rushed over. "Oh, my goodness! What’s happening?"

"Izzy, are you alright?" Clara’s voice, though sounding concerned, was a fraction too high, too steady. "What did they put on your eyes?"

"I─I don’t."

"Oh no. Here," she said gently, already dabbing at my eyes with a soft, damp towel. "Must be a bad batch of cucumbers. Some spas soak them in mint water—it can sting if it’s too strong."

The attendant flushed, mortified. "It’s our standard organic cucumber, miss. We’ve never had a reaction before." She rushed to a basin and began preparing a cool water rinse.

Elise’s face was a mask of concern and frustration. "This is unacceptable. Isabella, darling, are you allergic to anything?"

"No," I managed to say, my voice trembling as the attendant gently irrigated my eyes with cool, soothing water. The burning subsided to a dull, throbbing ache. "Nothing like this."

Clara stood back, her hands clasped in front of her. "Maybe it wasn’t the cucumbers," she mused, her brow furrowed in thought. "Maybe someone switched the solution they were soaked in? It seems malicious." She looked at the flustered attendant with a gaze that was both sympathetic and deeply suspicious. The young woman paled.

"I’m sure it was just a freak accident," I said, my voice flat. I sat up, blinking slowly. My vision was still blurry, red-rimmed.

"Oh my poor friend," Clara said, soothing. "I brought these just in case. Rose gel pads—no irritation."

She handed me the chilled patches, and I pressed them over my eyes with a grateful sigh. Cool. Gentle.

"Thank you," I whispered.

"Of course," she said.

"You’re an angel," I whispered.

She smiled again. "Just glad I was here."

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