When She Strikes Back

The air in the Sterling mansion was thick with the scent of lilies and the metallic tang of my own blood. I lay on the cold Italian marble of the foyer, my head ringing from the force of the blow. My mother-in-law, Fina Sterling, stood over me, her chest heaving beneath her silk blouse. She didn't look like a refined socialite; she looked like a predator that had finally cornered its prey. "Look at you," Fina spat, her voice dripping with a venom that made my skin crawl. "Lying there like the common street trash you are. Do you really think that because you have a ring on your finger, you’re one of us? You’re a placeholder, Cassandra. A womb that failed to produce, a mouth that does nothing but eat our wealth, and a face that I am sick of looking at." She reached down, grabbing a handful of my hair, and jerked my head back. I cried out, the skin of my scalp screaming in protest. "You’re pathetic," she hissed, leaning close enough that I could smell her expensive peppermint tea. "Jonas is upstairs right now, washing the scent of your desperation off his skin. Do you know what he told me this morning? He said touching you feels like a chore. He said he has to close his eyes and imagine someone else just to get through the night." "Please..." I choked out, the word tasting like copper. "Fina, please stop." "Stop?" A new voice joined the air, light and melodic, yet sharper than a razor. I looked up through my blurred vision. Brooklyn was descending the stairs, draped in a red silk robe that I recognized. It was the one Jonas had bought for me last Christmas—the one he told me I looked too 'plain' to wear. "Oh, Cassie," Brooklyn sighed, tapping a manicured chin as she looked down at me. "Still playing the victim? It’s getting a bit old, don't you think? You’ve had three years to make him love you, and all you’ve managed to do is make him bored. You’re like a stale cracker, honey. Nobody wants to eat that when there’s steak on the table." She walked over and stood right next to Fina, looking down at me with an expression of mock pity. "Don't hate me for being the steak," Brooklyn whispered, a cruel glint in her eyes. "Jonas needs a woman who can keep up with him, not a servant who apologizes for breathing. He told me last night that he’s never felt more alive than when he’s lying to your face." The front door opened, and the heavy tread of expensive leather shoes echoed in the hall. Jonas. My husband. My heartbeat . "Jonas!" I reached out a hand, my fingers trembling. "Jonas, help me... your mother, she—" Jonas didn't even stop. He didn't even look down. He tossed a thick manila envelope onto my chest. The weight of it felt like a tombstone. "Sign it, Cassandra," he said, his voice flat, devoid of a single spark of the warmth he used to give me. "I’m done. The lawyers have already drafted everything. You get nothing. No alimony, no assets, no Kingsley heirlooms. I’ve already settled the debts your pathetic stepfather ran up. Consider that your payout." "Jonas, I loved you!" I screamed, the sound tearing through my throat. "I took the hits for you! I stayed silent when your mother humiliated me! I gave up my life for yours!" Jonas finally paused, turning his head just enough for me to see the disgust in his eyes. "That was your mistake, wasn't it? You made yourself a doormat. Did you really think I’d respect a woman who has no pride? Brooklyn has fire. You... you’re just ash." Fina shoved a pen into my hand, her nails digging into my palm. "Sign! Before I have the security guards drag you out by your ankles!" With a soul that felt like it was being ground into dust, I signed. I signed away my name, my home, and my dignity. The guards were on me seconds later. They didn't care that it was a monsoon outside. They didn't care that I had no shoes. They dragged me through the mud of the driveway and threw me past the iron gates like a bag of refuse. "And stay out!" Fina’s voice echoed from the porch. "If I see your face near this estate again, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing, you peasant!" The gates slammed shut. The click of the lock sounded like a gunshot. I walked for miles. The rain was so heavy I couldn't see my own feet. My dress was plastered to my body, and my breath was coming in short, ragged gasps. I pulled out my phone, my fingers so numb I could barely swipe the screen. I called my mother, Cresinta. "Hello? Cassandra, why are you calling at this hour?" Her voice was irritated, the background filled with the sound of clinking glasses and laughter. "Mom... Jonas kicked me out. I’m in the street. I have nowhere to go. I’m... I think I’m going into shock. Please come get me." "Kicked you out?" Cresinta let out a sharp, jagged laugh. "Well, what did you do now? I told you to keep that man happy! Do you have any idea what this does to my reputation? David was just about to close a deal with the Sterlings!" "Mom, I’m dying out here!" "Don't be dramatic. Go find a shelter or a 24-hour cafe. I’m at the Governor’s gala. I can't leave now; it would be social suicide. Figure it out, Cassandra. You’re an adult. Stop being such a burden." Click. The line went dead. My mother had just hung up on my life. Desperate, I called Jonas one last time. I just needed to hear that this was a nightmare. That he would come get me. "What is it now?" Jonas snapped . "Jonas... please. I’m on the highway. I can’t see... the rain is too much. Please, just send a car. I’ll go anywhere, just don't leave me here..." "Cassandra, listen to me very carefully," Jonas’s voice was cold and slow. "I don't care if you freeze. I don't care if you starve. To me, you are already dead. Do not call this phone again, or I will make sure what little is left of your life becomes a living hell. Goodbye." I stared at the black screen. The cold was finally winning. My heart was slowing down. I stepped out onto the asphalt, my mind a hollow shell of grief. I didn't see the truck. I only felt the blinding light and the roar of a horn that sounded like the trumpets of judgment. THUD. The impact sent me spiraling into the air. I felt my bones shatter, my internal organs bursting under the pressure. When I hit the ground, I felt the warm blood gush from my mouth, steaming in the cold rain. I lay there, staring at the gray sky. No one stopped. No one came. I was dying alone in the mud, discarded by everyone I had ever loved. 'I hate you', I thought, the darkness closing in. 'I hate you all. If I have a soul, I sell it now. Give me revenge. Give me their blood.' The world went black. "WAKE UP!" A sharp sting across my face jolted me into consciousness. I gasped, my lungs filling with air that didn't taste like rain. I wasn't on the asphalt. I was on the floor of the Sterling foyer. Fina Sterling stood over me, her hand raised for another strike. She looked exactly as she had—arrogant, cruel, and very much alive. "Are you deaf, you stupid girl?" she shrieked. "I told you to clean up the wine I spilled! It’s our anniversary dinner tonight, and you’re sitting there like a statue!" I looked at my hands. They were smooth. The wedding ring sat heavy on my finger. I looked at the grand clock. October 14, 2024. A year ago. I was back. The pain of the truck, the coldness of Jonas’s voice, the laughter of Brooklyn—it was all branded into my soul. I looked up at Fina. In my past life, I would have trembled. I would have apologized. Instead, I felt a wave of icy, murderous calm wash over me. "The wine, Cassandra!" Fina moved to slap me again. I didn't move my head. I reached up and caught her wrist in mid-air. The strength in my arm surprised even me. I squeezed until I felt her bones shift, her eyes widening in pure, bewildered terror. "Clean it yourself, Fina," I said, my voice sounding like a ghost rising from a grave. 'Because this time... I’m not the one who’s going to die.'