The Unseen Empress of Sound

The Unseen Empress of Sound

Gavin

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My belly swollen, nine months in, I clutched the counter as a brutal contraction stole my breath. "Ethan," I gasped, "I think it's the baby. It's too early." He didn't even glance up from his phone, scrolling through pictures of Sabrina Chavez, the singer who' d stolen my song. "Not now, Jocelyn," he drawled, "I'm dealing with a crisis." He meant Sabrina's stylist sent the wrong shoes. Not impending premature birth. Another wave of pain hit, sharper. I saw red on my legs. But he took my phone and keys. "You're going to sit down, drink some water, and stop trying to sabotage the biggest night of my career." He left, the door clicking like a coffin lid. An hour later, I was bleeding on the floor, the storm had knocked out the landlines, and the front door was locked. When help finally came, it was Ethan' s mother, who called my pain "theatrics," then shoved me into the dark, damp storm cellar, filled with corrosive cleaner. My baby died there, in the acid, in the dark. I should have died. I did die, to the world. But my father, the reclusive music legend Jackson Fuller, saved me. Now, the old Jocelyn is gone, burned away. And from the ashes, a new one has risen. And she wants revenge.

Introduction

My belly swollen, nine months in, I clutched the counter as a brutal contraction stole my breath.

"Ethan," I gasped, "I think it's the baby. It's too early."

He didn't even glance up from his phone, scrolling through pictures of Sabrina Chavez, the singer who' d stolen my song.

"Not now, Jocelyn," he drawled, "I'm dealing with a crisis." He meant Sabrina's stylist sent the wrong shoes.

Not impending premature birth.

Another wave of pain hit, sharper.

I saw red on my legs.

But he took my phone and keys. "You're going to sit down, drink some water, and stop trying to sabotage the biggest night of my career." He left, the door clicking like a coffin lid.

An hour later, I was bleeding on the floor, the storm had knocked out the landlines, and the front door was locked.

When help finally came, it was Ethan' s mother, who called my pain "theatrics," then shoved me into the dark, damp storm cellar, filled with corrosive cleaner.

My baby died there, in the acid, in the dark.

I should have died. I did die, to the world.

But my father, the reclusive music legend Jackson Fuller, saved me. Now, the old Jocelyn is gone, burned away.

And from the ashes, a new one has risen. And she wants revenge.

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When Love Turns to Ash

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My world revolved around Jax Harding, my older brother's captivating rockstar friend. From sixteen, I adored him; at eighteen, I clung to his casual promise: "When you're 22, maybe I'll settle down." That offhand comment became my life's beacon, guiding every choice, meticulously planning my twenty-second birthday as our destiny. But on that pivotal day in a Lower East Side bar, clutching my gift, my dream exploded. I overheard Jax' s cold voice: "Can't believe Savvy's showing up. She' s still hung up on that stupid thing I said." Then the crushing plot: "We' re gonna tell Savvy I' m engaged to Chloe, maybe even hint she' s pregnant. That should scare her off." My gift, my future, slipped from my numb fingers. I fled into the cold New York rain, devastated by betrayal. Later, Jax introduced Chloe as his "fiancée" while his bandmates mocked my "adorable crush"-he did nothing. As an art installation fell, he saved Chloe, abandoning me to severe injury. In the hospital, he came for "damage control," then shockingly shoved me into a fountain, leaving me to bleed, calling me a "jealous psycho." How could the man I loved, who once saved me, become this cruel and publicly humiliate me? Why was my devotion seen as an annoyance to be brutally extinguished with lies and assault? Was I just a problem, my loyalty met with hatred? I would not be his victim. Injured and betrayed, I made an unshakeable vow: I was done. I blocked his number and everyone connected to him, severing ties. This was not an escape; this was my rebirth. Florence awaited, a new life on my terms, unburdened by broken promises.

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