Together We Rise From Ashes

Name: Together We Rise From Ashes
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Gavin

Short stories | Completed

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My sister and I were stranded on a deserted road, eight months pregnant and with a flat tire, when a truck' s headlights pinned us in their glare. It wasn't swerving to avoid us. It was aiming for us. The crash was a symphony of destruction. As a monstrous pain ripped through my pregnant belly, I called my husband, Kade, my voice choked with blood and fear. "Kade... accident... the baby... something' s wrong with the baby." But I didn't hear panic. I heard his stepsister, Florence, whining in the background about a headache. Then came Kade' s voice, cold as ice. "Stop being so dramatic. You probably just bumped a curb. Florence needs me." He hung up. He chose her over me, over his sister-in-law, over his own unborn child. I woke up in the hospital to two truths. My sister, a world-renowned pianist, would never play again. And our son, the baby I had carried for eight months, was gone. They thought we were just collateral damage in their perfect lives. They were about to find out we were the reckoning.

Betrayal Revenge Pregnancy Divorce Billionaires

Chapter 10

09-25 16:41

Chapter 1

My sister and I were stranded on a deserted road, eight months pregnant and with a flat tire, when a truck' s headlights pinned us in their glare.

It wasn't swerving to avoid us. It was aiming for us.

The crash was a symphony of destruction. As a monstrous pain ripped through my pregnant belly, I called my husband, Kade, my voice choked with blood and fear.

"Kade... accident... the baby... something' s wrong with the baby."

But I didn't hear panic. I heard his stepsister, Florence, whining in the background about a headache.

Then came Kade' s voice, cold as ice.

"Stop being so dramatic. You probably just bumped a curb. Florence needs me."

He hung up. He chose her over me, over his sister-in-law, over his own unborn child.

I woke up in the hospital to two truths. My sister, a world-renowned pianist, would never play again. And our son, the baby I had carried for eight months, was gone.

They thought we were just collateral damage in their perfect lives.

They were about to find out we were the reckoning.

Chapter 1

Gloria Carpenter POV:

The first call to my husband went to voicemail. The second, too. On the third, as the headlights grew into blinding suns pinning us to the side of the deserted road, I finally understood.

My marriage was a lie.

Just hours ago, Charlene and I were the shimmering centerpiece of Gotham' s high society pages. The Carpenter sisters, the envy of every woman who dreamed of a fairy-tale ending. We had married the Conrad twins, Kade and Carlisle, heirs to a corporate empire that could buy and sell small countries. Our lives were supposed to be set, gilded cages of comfort and adoration.

Tonight, the gold had peeled back to reveal cheap, rusted iron.

"They' re not stopping, Glo," Charlene whispered, her voice tight with a fear that mirrored my own. Her hands, those gifted, insured-for-millions hands that could make a piano weep, gripped the steering wheel of our stalled car.

I clutched my phone, my thumb hovering over Kade' s name. A wave of nausea, sharp and acidic, rose in my throat, completely unrelated to the eight months of pregnancy that made my movements clumsy. The baby inside me, a tiny, insistent flutter of life, kicked against my ribs as if sensing my panic.

Pick up, Kade. Please, just pick up.

The mental link between us, once a vibrant current of shared thoughts and emotions, was silent. It hadn't always been this way. In the beginning, his mind was an open book to me, full of reassurances and a fierce, possessive love I mistook for devotion. But lately, especially since his stepsister Florence returned, the connection had grown frayed, then muted, and now... nothing. It was like screaming into an empty room.

The truck accelerated. It wasn't swerving to avoid us. It was aiming for us.

My breath hitched. "Try Carlisle again," I urged Charlene, my voice barely a tremor.

She shook her head, her knuckles white. "I did. He said the same thing as Kade. That they' re busy."

Busy. The word was a slap. Busy consoling Florence because she' d had a minor argument with her ex-boyfriend. Kade' s voice from his last brief, irritated call echoed in my ears. "For God' s sake, Gloria, can' t you handle a flat tire? Florence is having a panic attack. Her needs come first right now."

Her needs. A broken nail was a tragedy for Florence. A cancelled shopping trip was a crisis. And my husband, and my sister' s husband, treated her trivial dramas as matters of state security, while their pregnant wives were stranded on a dark, forgotten highway.

The headlights were inescapable now, the engine a deafening roar that vibrated through the floor of our car. There was no time to get out, no time to do anything but brace for the inevitable. Charlene screamed my name, a sharp, terrified sound that was swallowed by the screech of tires and the cataclysmic crunch of metal.

My head slammed against the side window. Pain, white-hot and blinding, exploded behind my eyes. The world tilted, spun, and then everything was just a symphony of destruction-the shattering of glass, the groan of twisting steel, and my own ragged gasp as a monstrous force threw me against my seatbelt. The strap dug viciously into my swollen belly.

A new, terrifying pain ripped through me, low and deep. It was a cramp of such impossible intensity that it stole my breath.

"The baby," I choked out, my hand flying to my stomach. It was as hard as a rock. "Char... the baby."

But Charlene didn' t answer. She was slumped over the steering wheel, unnaturally still. A dark stain was spreading across her sleeve, and her beautiful, talented hands were twisted at an angle that made my stomach heave.

The truck, its job done, sped away into the darkness without a second glance.

We were alone. Bleeding. Broken.

And the silence from my husband' s end of our mental bond was louder than the wreck itself.

I fumbled for my phone, my fingers slick with something warm. The screen was cracked, but it still glowed. I hit Kade' s number again, praying to a God I wasn' t sure I believed in anymore.

It rang once. Twice.

Then, his voice. Not concerned. Annoyed. "Gloria, I told you I' m with Florence. What is so important that you have to keep calling?"

A sob tore from my throat, raw and desperate. "Kade... accident... we were hit... Charlene' s hurt, I think she' s unconscious. And the baby... something' s wrong with the baby."

There was a pause. For a fraction of a second, a stupid, naive part of me expected to hear panic, to hear him shouting orders, to feel the rush of his concern through our bond.

Instead, I heard Florence' s voice in the background, a pathetic, manipulative whimper. "Kade, my head hurts so much. I think I' m going to be sick."

Kade' s tone softened instantly, a gentle murmur meant only for her. "It' s okay, Flo. I' m here. Just breathe." He came back on the line with me, his voice like ice. "Look, stop being so dramatic. You probably just bumped a curb. Call a tow truck. I can' t leave Florence right now. She needs me."

"Dramatic?" The word was so absurd, so cruel, it felt like another blow. "Kade, the car is destroyed! I' m bleeding! Please, you have to help us!"

"You' re always making things about you, aren' t you? Florence is fragile. Unlike you. Handle it. And don' t call again unless the world is actually ending."

The line went dead.

He had hung up.

He had chosen her. Over me. Over his sister-in-law. Over his own unborn child.

The truth settled over me, cold and heavy as a shroud. This wasn' t just neglect. This was a deliberate abandonment. We weren' t his priority. We weren' t even on his list.

A wave of agony, sharper than any physical pain, washed over me. I looked at Charlene, so still and silent, and then down at my rigid belly where the frantic fluttering had ceased. An awful, spreading wetness was soaking through my dress. Red. So much red.

The child I had carried for eight months, the child I had loved with every fiber of my being, was slipping away from me. And his father didn' t care.

Tears streamed down my face, hot and useless. I tried to reach for Charlene, to do something, anything, but my body felt like it was filled with lead. My consciousness was fraying at the edges, the darkness beckoning.

In that moment, lying in the wreckage of my car, my sister, and my life, I made a vow. If I survived this, Kade Conrad would pay. They would all pay.

My last conscious thought was not of my husband, but of the child I was losing. My little boy. A silent scream for him echoed in the ruins of my heart. The world finally went black.