CHAPTER TWO:THE BLEEDING ROOM
1128 Words
Three years ago.
The hospital lights had buzzed above her like a warning, sterile and unforgiving. The room was cold ,too white and too quiet. Zaria remembered the colour of the ceiling more than anything else. t was an off white, not quite cream, with tiny gray dots like specsks of ash floating across a blank sky. Her body felt detached from itself , like it belonged to someone else entirely.
She didn' t remember the falldown the stairs, only the scream of the maid who found her crumpled at the base. She didn't remember the ride to the hospital , just the metallic tang of blood in her mouth and the aching hollowness where her baby had once been.
Darian never paid attention to the small details.He liked things that glittered. Things that obey.
Zaria had learned long ago how to become invisible enough to survive . But she had never stopped paying attentions.
She touched the edge of a property deed. Her family's former vineyard liquidated and swept under in bankruptcy after Thornwell Enterprises orcherstated a hostile takeover of her father's company. They called it business. she called ut blood money.
Her parents had died within weeks of each other. a car crash, break failure. Quick funeral. No investigation.
Darian paid for caskets.
She married him three months later.
Everyone called it strategic. Inevitable . A marriage between two empires.
Zaria knew the truth.
The pain came later.
It was the searing ache in her abdomen or the weight of needles and tubes.It was the sience. Darian's silence.
He hadn't come.
Her assistant, nervous and tearful had whispered through the phone ,"He said he had a meeting. I tried Mrs Thornwell. i told him it was urgent."
Urgent.That was the word they used when you were dying and nobody cared.
The doctors moved around her like shadows, speaking in clinical terms as if they weren't talking about her womb , her child and her body. Words like 'rupture' and 'hemorrhage and hysterectomy clanged against the air like metal doors slamming shut. One nurse younger than the rest had gripped her hand tightly and whispered," You are so strong. I'm so sorry."
Strong. As if she had a choice.
When she woke , her ams instinctively moved to cradle her belly but there was only flatness. The nurse's kind eyes and gentle already knew what she would ask.
"I am sorry ,Mrs THORnwell. The baby didn't make it. There were complications . WE only managed to save your uterus but the chances of you ever giving birth again might be slim. It was the only way to save your life. The doctors says you are lucky to be alive."
It had taken four years for her to get pregnant and it had only happened because he had come home drunk and he had asssumed she was celestine. He was gentle and had called celestine's name as he c*m into rolled over and fell asleep. It might have been an accident but she still wanted to have that child her glimmer of hope that had just been snatched away.
Zaria didn't scream. She didn't weep. She simply turned her head to the side and stared at the pale wall. Her eyes were dry. Her throat burning.
That afternoon, a tall vase of white orchids were delivered to her room.
No not.
No husband.
No family.
Just a symbol of abscence, beautiful ,soulless and piontless.
She discharged herself two days later. The house was cold and none of the staff met her eyes. Everyone knew. No one said a word.
Present Day.
The wine stain on the wall had been cleaned.The glass shards swept away. FRom a distance , the THornwell estate appeared unchanged. Opulent. Immaculate,but Zaria knew better. A stomr had cracked the foundation and she was the storm.
She stood in her private study now, barefot her silk robe trailing behind her like a whisper. The desk infront of her was an antique, walnut and brass, imported from vienna. Darian had purschased it for her as a wedding gift, or rather one his assistants had. She doubted he remembered it at all.
She opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a sleek black folder, matte leather ,edges worn with time. Inside were documents she had been collectig for years deeds and finacial statements. Power of attorney slips signed without question. offshore account numbers.
Zaria had learned long ago how to become invisible enough to survive.But she had never stopped paying attention.
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She touched the edge of a property deed. Her familiy'sformer vineyard estate and swept uner in bankruptcy after THornwell Enterprises orcherstrated a hostile takeover of her fathers company. They called it business. She called it blood money.
Her parents had died within weeks of each other. A car crash. Brake failure they said. Quick funeral. No investigation.
Darian paid for the caskets.
She married him thre months later.
Everyone called it strategic. Inevitable. A marriage between two empires.
Zaria knew the truth.
She married him to keep what was left of the family afloat. She married him to survive.
And then piece by peice she began to rebuild her power and locked it. Her movements were calm, precise. She was done with reacting. Done with surviving.
It was time to begin dismantling the throne Darian Thornwell had buit atop her ruin.
There was aknock at the door.
"Enter." she said , her voice smooth.
Yvette her personal assisstant stepped inside."Your call has been confirmed. 9a.m. tomorrow. The number is encrypted as you requested."
"Good," Zaria said, turning to face her.
'Also..." Yvette hesitated. " Lady THornwell, the press is saying Celestine will be introduced formal next week at the Thornwell Foundation gala. With the pregnancy... and all."
Zaria gave a small smile."Let the have their moment. The world loves a fairytale. Even the tragic ones."
"Shall i prepare your dress?"
"No," Zaria said ."Cancel my attendance. But send a message."
"What should it say?"
She turned back to the window , looking out over the sculpted gardens. PErfect ,precise and soulless.
"Tell them i send my blessings," she said. "And to enjoy the show."
Yvette nodded and existed.
Zaria stood alone again, but this the silence didn't consume her.
It waited.
She pulled her phone from the desk snd opened a secure messaging app. A single contract. no name , just an initial: V
She typed.
Its time.
A reply came seconds later.
I have been waiting.
Zaria exhaled slowly. Not relief but resolve.
They had mistaken her silence for weakness. Her poise for submission. Her marriage for loyalty.
But Zariyah Valencia DelaRue Thornwell had never been a wife.
She had been a weapon waiting for ignition.
And now she was lit.
- Writer
