Witches on WhatApp Ep2
Witches on WhatsApp
I had to put an end to Lara’s engagement.
The moment I saw the ring on her finger, glistening under soft candlelight, I knew she had gone too far. She had no idea she was tempting fate—tempting me.
I spent the next few days combing through all her social media handles, searching through every post, every picture, every comment until I found him—her fiancรฉ. A simple man. Easy to manipulate.
But this task was more difficult than I had imagined.
I consulted the great witches. Their voices, like whispers in the wind, told me what must be done. This was no mere car spell—this required precision, patience, and a worthy sacrifice.
Then, a few months later, my moment arrived.
Lara added me to her bridal group chat.
I smiled at my phone screen, the little blue notification glowing like a signal from the gods. Foolish girl. We were never close—never friends—but she was reckless with her life, putting everything on display for people like me to see.
And I saw everything.
Her wedding plans. Her dress. The guest list. The little fights between her and her fiancรฉ.
I had everything I needed.
That night, I made my offering to the coven. A sacrifice worthy of the spell I was about to cast.
And then, I struck.
It started in the group chat. A small misunderstanding. A misplaced word. A suggestion turned accusation. The arguments grew, twisting their love into something fragile, something breakable.
Days turned to weeks, and the fights spilled beyond the chat, into their real lives.
And then—just like that—the engagement was called off.
I won.
You might be wondering, don’t I have it all together in life?
I do.
I work at an oil and gas company, earning more than enough to live the life people dream of. I have the best fiancรฉ in the world. And you know what? Black magic made it all possible.
I don’t post my wins. I don’t update my status with silly accomplishments.
But I watch.
That’s all I need.
Humans are careless, spilling their lives into the open, letting their happiness dangle like ripe fruit for people like me to pluck.
Witches wear makeup.
We fix our nails.
We look good.
And we are baddies.
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