Original subtitles

Okay. Tonight, glitter at 10.

And tell Bruce at the door that I know you and I won't have any trouble.

Okay.

Perfect. I'll see you there.

Bye.

Most little girls dream of landing their Prince Charming.

Having a couple kids, a nice house, the white picket fence, you know, the whole

works.

But not me.

I knew from an early age that all of that was bullshit.

A fairy tale little girls are spoon -fed by their own unhappy parents.

Oh, damn, Joe. This chicken tastes like shit.

Then you should have gotten off your fat, lazy ass and picked it up yourself.

It ain't like you have a job or nothing.

Go get a fucking job, Earl.

Get a fucking job!

My parents, on the other hand, never fed me the whole fairy tale.

No, quite the opposite, actually.

With them, there was nothing but insults and accusations rolled over the coffee

table at dinner time.

Bitter reality.

The blatant dishonesty and disrespect that comes with the whole covenant of

marriage.

What do you think you're doing coming home at 3 a .m.? What little cunt were

with this time, you little piece of shit?

We didn't have a white picket fence.

Hell,

we didn't even have a house.

And I wasn't spoon -fed hope or fairy tales.

Instead, I was given a hard dose of what marriage really was.

Early on, I made a choice.

I didn't want to live like my parents did.

Poor, ridiculously unhappy.

I also didn't want to be fooled into thinking that some Prince Charming would

one day sweep me off my feet and be the key to my eternal happiness.

No.

I was too smart for that.

Even at 19.

Ever since I can remember, I knew exactly what I wanted.

And it certainly wasn't to be in a loveless marriage in hopes that one day

things would change.

That love would finally find me and my husband, make us happy, make things

bearable.

I didn't want to be a wife, a mom, have the proverbial white picket fence.

No, I had a better plan.

A much better plan.

One few little girls dream of.

I'd be a succubus.

A black widow.

Oh, you going somewhere, honey?

You scared me.

I thought I would come home early.

Where are you going out?

Uh, yeah, I thought I'd go meet Tiffany.

Hollywood, girls night out, karaoke or something.

But if I'd have known you were going to be home... Oh, no, it's okay.

You go. Have fun.

Speaking of fun, I can think of something that might be enjoyable.

I found Charles when I was 20.

He was 56.

A corporate lawyer with a heart of gold and a bank account to match.

I met him while I was prowling a local country club.

I knew he was the one as soon as I laid eyes on him.

He was attractive enough to fuck without completely grossing me out, but not so

attractive that he would have a healthy pool of other women like me to choose

from.

He was smart, but not smart enough to figure me out.

He was also quiet, gentle, and suffered from chronic depression, which

meant that it would be easy to get him to submit, to seduce him into following

my lead.

Yeah.

Oh, fuck.

Oh,

shit.

Whoa.

Mm -hmm.

Most importantly with Charles, he was filthy rich.

I moved into his house and out of my parents' trailer within a week.

And that's when it all began.

The seduction, his falling in love.

The ring.

The wedding.

I couldn't have planned it any better.

It was completely going my way.

That is, until the very end.

Hey. Hey.

How are you?

Peyton, this is Eric. He's visiting from Boston. Eric, this is Peyton.

How's the sugar daddy?

His name is Charles.

Must be nice living in that huge house with all that fucking money.

You happy?

Why wouldn't I be?

Just seems like it'd be more fun if you didn't have that old coot watching every

move that you make.

Tiffany was barely tolerable.

But she was the only friend I had.

We met at a coffee shop and she'd taken an instant liking to me.

Which was odd.

Because very few women ever had.

If any.

But I'd always suspected that her feelings for me were tempered with hate.

It was easy to see she was jealous.

Of my beauty.

My brains.

And now, my money.

We hung out sometimes.

But like everyone else, I kept her at arm's length.

She wasn't to be trusted.

No one was.

Early on, I learned that Charles loved to swing, that he fantasized about

watching and being watched.

I made sure he lived out those fantasies by often getting him other women.

Oh, it wasn't difficult.

Women were easy to find in L .A. strip clubs.

Most would do anything for a few extra bucks.

So over the three years we were together, I watched, and I let him

Fuck.

I'm gonna turn off the things on.

Don't fuck with me!

I'd given Charles enough of my life.

Now I had to move on.

I'd have to be careful.

Leave no trail.

Not one track.

I must have read dozens of books on assisted suicide.

Visited a million websites at the local library.

The pills I decided to use were going to take a while, but they were easy to

get, and they were effective.

Most importantly, if administered correctly, they weren't traceable.

Charles would die a slow, virtually painless death.

I was young, and time was on my side.

I had it all planned out long before I met Charles.

I'd give my prey three years of happiness before I struck, so not to

suspicious.

And that's just what I did.

Arriving at the three -year mark sparked an adrenaline inside of me that I'd

never felt.

An overwhelming sense of passion in an otherwise passionless existence.

Now it was finally time to become what I was meant to be.

To fulfill my girlhood dream.

It felt as though I'd waited all of my life for this moment.

And I knew I couldn't fuck it up.

Fighting broke out overnight between rival factions along the Israeli -Syrian

border. Initial reports claim Israeli jet fighters bombed a guerrilla base,

killing at least 49 soldiers and 13 civilians.

Damage to the base is said to be...

You okay, hon?

Yeah.

I'm just feeling a little tired these days.

It's not your depression again, is it?

No.

It might just be the alcohol.

Maybe I'm just getting old.

No, I'm fine.

So, have you heard from him lately?

You mean your asshole father?

Sure. I've talked to him.

He's the same jackass as always.

I hear he shucked up with some woman your age.

Fucking Earl!

So, how's the life in a big city?

Still in love with that rich husband of yours?

I am.

Wow.

Good thing he's older than you.

Or else you'd have to worry about him trading you in for a younger model.

Even after giving him the best years of your life.

And ruining your body with a kid.

Charles won't leave me.

I didn't think your pitiful brain's father ever would either.

But you can never tell what a man's going to do, honey.

You can never tell.

They're not like us.

They're animals.

Trust me, Ma.

Charles isn't going anywhere.

Hey, can you spare your mama a few bucks?

Sure, Ma.

You will always... such a good little girl.

Bye, Mom.

Bye, Megan.

You fall asleep on me?

No.

I was really tired since dinner.

My head's killing me.

What do you say we get you to bed?

Come on.

Yeah.

Fuck me. Yeah? Yeah.

What about your husband? Isn't he going to come home?

I'll be lucky if he's home before nine.

Fuck me.

Ugh.

I don't care.

Oh, my

God.

Can I come on? Yeah.

other people all the time. How is this any different?

That's something that we do together. Me and you.

For us.

That's goddamn adultery.

You never said... I never had to say.

You're a smart girl.

You fucking knew you were cheating on me.

I didn't know.

What?

Are you actually telling me that you didn't know that you're not supposed to

fuck another guy in my house when I'm not here?

Huh?

Don't be so nasty.

You never yell like this.

Yeah.

I never came home to find my wife with another man's dick in her either.

Nobody talks to me like that dead motherfucker.

What would you do if he left you?

You've never worked a day in your life.

I've worked.

Where?

Retail. Okay, I believe that.

Down the hall on the left, right?

Holy shit.

I fucking knew it.

Do you love him?

Of course.

What the hell kind of question is that?

I don't believe you.

The way I see it is that the beautiful have everything at their feet.

And if they pay their shit right, they can have anything they want.

Including a nice life without an old man getting in the way.

Do you know what a black widow is?

Of course you do.

The conversation with Tiffany disturbed me.

It was as though she could see right through me, read my thoughts, like she

my plan.

And if she could, perhaps others would.

At that point, I should have pulled back, destroyed the pills, the book,

anything and everything that had to do with my plan.

But I couldn't.

I had invested three years in Charles.

I had nowhere else to go.

Where are you going?

Tiffany's.

Watch the chick flick.

I thought you'd want to be alone.

We just need to lay some ground rules.

I don't want to invite anybody else in our bed again.

I've been thinking about it and I don't think it's healthy.

I want it to just be us and be enough for each other.

It's been three years.

I'd like to start that family.

Trading you in for a younger mom, even after giving you the best of your life

and ruining your body.

Charles wanted me to be both monogamous and pregnant.

Completely insane and ludicrous notions.

Both weren't going to happen.

The pills were going to take several weeks to work.

I knew I'd have to move more quickly.

You okay, hon?

Just feeling a little tired.

Oh, my God.

Yes, I'm calling for Joe.

It's Charles Covington.

Yeah, I'll hold.

Joe.

Charles Covington.

Fine, thanks, fine. How are you?

And? What'd you find?

Hmm.

I love you.

Oh, God.

Oh,

fuck.

Oh,

God. So good.

Yeah.

You falling asleep, Ollie?

What did he say? Come on, come on, come on.

You okay, hon?

You never cook breakfast.

I just wanted to do something for you.

Something deserving.

How nice.

Oh, no, they can't fight.

You done already?

Yeah, you know, I don't like to eat very much before I go for my run.

Hun, I thought you were gonna go for a run.

Huh?

Did you already go for your run?

No.

Just so fucking tired all of a sudden.

Somehow Charles had found the pills.

I'd underestimated him.

But how?

And what's worse, I had suspicions.

Suspicions that he was poisoning me.

You don't like your wine?

It's fine.

You cheated on me.

You tried to kill me. Fuck with my head.

You want to play games, little girl?

I'll play.

As a matter of fact, I'm playing one right now.

You know you're all I have, beautiful.

Without you, I...

Did you enjoy the show?

Sure.

After dinner, would you like to fuck?

Charles, you don't talk like that.

I don't?

No.

You're more reserved.

Nevertheless, the question stands.

I'm too tired for sex.

I don't know what's gotten into me lately.

I've just been so tired.

You know how you feel.

I'm going to go in and get ready for dinner.

What's gotten into you lately?

Gotten into me?

This is the third time this week that you've cooked.

You know, I like cooking for you.

Well, I simply wanted to do something nice for you.

A new gesture of our love.

Treat you the way that you treat me.

Do you love me, Peyton?

Of course.

What kind of question is that?

And you want the best for me.

I don't know where you're going with this.

Look, I'm sorry.

I'm tired.

I have to get some rest.

Wait, don't leave.

But... I said don't go!

Here's the way that I see it.

much younger woman.

And you entered my life for love.

For mutual companionship.

I don't know the answer to that, but I'll tell you what I do know.

A woman like you

Marries a man like me for certain reasons.

Unseemly reasons.

Reasons?

Unseemly? What?

Interrupt me.

Ken.

As I would think.

I am an older man.

Not an exceptionally Attractive older man.

You were born and bred in a trailer.

I bet you always wanted to taste the good life, didn't you, Peyton?

You couldn't have gotten it on your own.

You didn't even work.

As a matter of fact, you have no skills whatsoever besides...

I can't stay awake.

I know.

Do you know what a black widow is, Peyton?

Somehow, Charles had learned of my plan.

And he was out to get me.

I was backed into a corner.

Did I run?

If so, where to?

There was nowhere to go.

I couldn't hook anymore.

Thank you.

Yeah, yeah

Yeah. Yeah.

Fuck yeah.

Fuck yeah.

Fuck yeah.

Fuck yeah.

Fuck yeah. Fuck yeah. Fuck yeah.

Fuck yeah.

Fuck yeah. Fuck yeah.

Fuck yeah.

Fuck yeah.

I'd seen too much.

Too much of Charles' world.

A world that belonged to me.

A world that I deserved.

And one that was being unjustly taken away.

Maybe I can make this up somehow.

Convince him I was truly sorry.

Maybe there was still a chance.

I'd always been good with men.

Good at getting what I wanted.

At this point, I had no other option than to try.

the cause of renowned patent lawyer Charles Covington's death, his young

Peyton Covington, is being charged with first -degree murder.

Apparently a note was left by Mr. Covington with his secretary... A

A black widow.

I thought I'd had a bulletproof plan.

That I'd mapped out a life that very few other women had thought of.

Much less aspired to.

I thought I'd figured out men.

Figured out life.

Well, apparently, so did the women in cells 6, 13, and 23.

They, too, had tried to poison their husbands and failed.

But Charles had outwitted me.

He found out, poisoned himself, and pinned the blame on me.

I had underestimated him and grossly overestimated myself.

The depression had zapped his joy for life.

And what had been left, I'd taken away.

Now, I was paying the price.

Life in prison.

No chance.

No parole.

I had become what I'd feared most.

Just a widow.

Suddenly, the idea of the proverbial white picket fence?

Well, now it didn't sound so bad.