Share

Chapter Three

last update Last Updated: 2024-12-29 04:59:12

The first sound I hear as I regain consciousness is the steady, rhythmic beeping of a machine beside my head. A pained moan escapes me as I open my eyes, only to close them back when a harsh, bright light overhead greets me like an abrupt slap to the face. I wince, lifting my hand to shield my eyes but the tug of an IV in my wrist stops me. Giving it a moment, I blink my eyes open again, adjusting to the light while the pungent scent of antiseptic fills my nostrils, mingling with a metallic tang in the back of my throat as I notice the various machines connected to me. 

My brows furrow in confusion and just as I reach the conclusion that I'm currently at the hospital, I hear a familiar voice speak up beside me. “Selena, you're finally awake.”

I turn to see my best friend, Yemaya, watching me, her chocolate brown eyes glistening with concern and unshed tears. She moves closer, taking my free hand and squeezing it in hers. “You have no idea how terrified I was, sweetheart. I thought I'd lose you,” she rasps. “How are you feeling now? Does anything hurt? Should I get the doctor? She left just a few minutes ago. I'm sure she's closeby—”

“M-Maya,” I croak, interrupting her nervous rant.

Yemaya takes a deep breath and exhales shakily, her chin wobbling as she apologizes, “I’m sorry. The last thing I should be right now is a mess. It's just— God, I'm so sorry, Selena. So fucking sorry. I should've been there. Shouldn't have left you all alone with those fucking wolves.”

I frown, momentarily confused but before I can ask her what she means, the fog in my mind clears and the onslaught of memories that immediately floods my mind has me gasping loudly as I stiffen.

The pictures. Stella's betrayal. My husband. 

I jerk upright in bed, ignoring the pain that shoots through my entire body and the wave of dizziness that hits me. My actions are panicky as I grab onto Yemaya, asking, “D-Daniel? Where's my husband? I need to see him, Maya. Need to explain to him. I didn't do it. It was all Stella. She–she planned it.”

“Lena, you need to calm down. Please. Listen to me.” My best friend says, trying to calm me down as the heart monitor goes haywire in time with my heartbeat. But despite her efforts, my panic climbs higher and I make a move to yank the IV injection out of my hand—pain be damned, when she jerks me suddenly, yelling at me to stop. 

“Just listen to me, Selena!” My frantic movements come to an abrupt halt, leaving both of us heaving as we try to catch our breaths. The erratic beeping from the heart monitor starts to slow and Yemaya crouches, staring me dead in the eyes then said, “I’ll be damned if I let you leave this hospital until you're a hundred percent healthy again, cupcake.”

A noise of protest leaves my mouth but my best friend simply shakes her head, her eyes resolute yet her voice sounding pained as she continues, “You were unconscious for two days, Selena, you had to go through an emergency surgery, battled for your life and yet, your so-called husband,” she says with obvious contempt, “didn’t even visit. Not for one second. All I care about is your well-being, Lena. I don't give two fucks about those pieces of shit.”

I shake my head, holding onto Yemaya’s forearms. “You don't understand, Maya. I-I need to speak to Daniel. I didn't do any of it. I didn't cheat on him. You have to believe me.”

“I do,” Yemaya says, palming my wet cheeks. “I do believe you, darling. You're my best friend. I know you. You don't have to prove anything to me or to anybody else either, especially your husband, who oughta know and trust you the most. If he decides to believe fabricated fucking pictures over his own wife, then it's either he never truly loved you or…” she pauses, seemingly gauging my reaction before she continues in a cautious tone. “. . .maybe Stella wasn't acting alone.”

Her words send a chill down my spine, but I shake my head forcefully, refusing to believe Yemaya. He wouldn't do that to me. My husband wouldn't do that to me. I tell my best friend exactly this. 

Yemaya sighs, settling in front of me. “Selena, you had suspicions about Daniel cheating on you with someone. What if that someone…had been Stella? Try to think about it, sweetheart.”

“No!” I cry adamantly, my body shaking from the force of my sobs. “Daniel wouldn't do that to me. Not with my foster sister. I know you aren't a fan of him, Maya, but please don't try to drive us even further apart. I need my husband now more than ever. If not for anything, then at least for the sake of our unborn baby.”

I notice Yemaya stiffen, her expression darkening at something I said before she quickly looks away. Her body appears to suddenly thrum with anger, her hold on me turning rigid. My voice is soft and tentative as I probe her. “Maya, what's wrong? I'm so sorry if I said anything to hurt you. I love and appreciate you very much, you know that, right?”

A minute passes before she faces me again and I'm startled by the sight of tears streaking her face. My best friend sniffles then speaks, “Never doubted it for a second, sunshine, and you mean the whole damn universe to me. That's why it kills me to see you being treated this way when all you deserve is love, happiness and for those bastards to worship at your feet after everything you did for them.”

I frown, wondering what she's talking about, even as an inexplicable unease makes my heart begin to pound. “Did anything else happen, Maya? I don't underst—”

I freeze when something she said earlier suddenly registers, and then it's my turn to grip tightly onto her. “Just now, you said I underwent s-surgery, right? Why? What for?”

Yemaya hesitates to respond, merely staring at me and it worsens the sinking feeling in my stomach. Impatient and anxious, I shake her, getting right up in her face as I prompt her. “Answer me, Maya. What was it for?”

My best friend looks away from me as she delivers the bad news that shatters what's left of my world. “For the b-baby,” she whispers, her words echoing in my mind. “You’d already miscarried by the time you arrived at the hospital, Lena. The doctor had to do an immediate surgery to remove any residual pregnancy tissue to ensure you were totally out of danger.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I was still reeling from the news when Yemaya delivered another blow. “But that's not all. The doctor said she’d found something in your bloodstream when you wouldn't stabilize even after the operation was successful.” She meets my eyes then, her own pair brimming with both tears and hatred. “It was poison, Selena. In such high doses that you'd have d-died if you'd been brought in any lat— Lena? Selena!”

I lost my baby. I was poisoned. I was almost killed.

Those are the thoughts that keep repeating in my head as I give in to the surrounding darkness once again. 

Continue to read this book for free
Scan code to download App

Related chapters

  • Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Four

    I'm grateful for the numbness that envelops me as I step into the mansion I’d regarded as home since childhood—a place I had believed was a sanctuary of love and family. However, now, with the veil of illusion lifted, I see it for what it truly is: a den of betrayal. But despite everything, I refuse to believe my husband, Daniel, is involved in their treachery, which is what I'm here to confirm. Yemaya informed me that he'd been staying at the Winthrop mansion while I was hospitalized, and though she strongly opposed my decision to visit, she'd driven me here and was waiting outside, ready to barge in if I wasn't out within ten minutes. Her unwavering support reassures me as I walk silently down the familiar corridor lined with obnoxiously expensive artworks. Nearing the end of the hall, I begin hearing voices emanating from what I recall as the drawing room—a room that's never fulfilled its purpose.I don't know what to expect as I approach the ajar doorway but the sight of my husban

    Last Updated : 2024-12-29
  • Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Five

    𝐒𝐢𝐱 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 The hum of soft conversations and the occasional clink of cutlery greets me as I step into The Gilded Stag, a beacon of luxury in the heart of London. Although I've been working here for a little over a month, the understated elegance of the restaurant never hesitates to stun me. Subdued lighting glints off the crystal chandeliers, giving the place a warm and cozy vibe while servers glide between polished tables draped in pristine white linens. I clock in at the side station, exchanging curt nods and murmured hellos with my coworkers. “Good evening, Elena.” The maître d’, Colette, greets, her French accent as crisp as her tailored uniform. “It is a slow one tonight.”“Appears so,” I reply, grabbing my program sheet for the night. Colette nods and strides off, leaving me to make my way to the alcove where my grand piano sits. It's tucked in a corner near the bar, just enough to let my music drift around the restaurant without overwhelming the guests. I l

    Last Updated : 2025-02-22
  • Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Six

    CameronI don’t fixate on people—it’s never been my style. And with women, I’ve never had to try too hard. The Lancaster name alone is enough to have them flocking towards me, though most recognize me before I even speak.Yet, here I am, over a week later, still thinking about her—the pianist from one of my family’s restaurants. About that punch and how, despite the bloody pain, it only made her more intriguing. About the way she looked at me, not with interest, but irritation, like I was more of a nuisance than a man worth her time. It should’ve pissed me off; should’ve bruised my ego along with my nose. Instead, it’s got me walking back into The Gilded Stag, feeling like I’ve got unfinished business.Officially, I’m here to celebrate another successful acquisition. But let’s not kid ourselves—that’s just an excuse. Dining at one of my own restaurants has never been my idea of celebrating. No, I’m here for her. And this time, I want my best mates to be present for this.I’ve booked a

    Last Updated : 2025-02-25
  • Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Seven

    𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐚The elevator dings before the doors slide open and I step out into the dimly lit underground garage of the restaurant, a sigh escaping my lips. The fresh, cool air that rushes at me makes my body sag in relief as I weave through the many luxurious cars of varying brands and colors parked here, my phone pressed to my ear.I could've simply gone to relax in the staff lounge which is on the floor below the restaurant but it's routine for me to stretch my legs during my break since I spend hours seated on a bench plus, I don't want to risk bumping into a co-worker in there and being forced to interact. Perhaps not entirely safe but the underground garage is where I find myself on most nights. It provides the privacy I desire and it's the only other place besides the restaurant and lounge (which take up the 29th and 28th floors respectively) we, the staff, have access to within the entire 30-storey building complex and thus, the best place for me to stroll.“Wait, are you bei

    Last Updated : 2025-02-26
  • Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Eight

    𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐚The cab smells faintly of stale leather and cheap air freshener. I sit curled against the window as the morning fog hangs low over the streets, blurring the corners of buildings and streetlights. Tiny beads of moisture cling to the cab window, streaking slightly as the car moves. I watch them absentmindedly, my thoughts just as heavy as the damp air outside.Another day. Another appointment. Another round of cautious optimism. Another chance for disappointment to sink its teeth into me.I shouldn’t hope, but I do. Every single time.The cab jerks to a stop in front of the hospital, the familiar white building looming before me. I swallow the lump in my throat, fumbling in my purse for cash. My fingers tremble slightly as I hand the cabbie the rumpled money, my pulse thrumming in my ears."Keep the change," I mutter, pushing the door open.Cold air bites at my cheeks as I step out. The hospital doors stand just a few feet away, but I hesitate, staring up at the building lik

    Last Updated : 2025-02-26
  • Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Nine

    𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐚I step off the bus, adjusting the strap of my purse as I start the familiar walk back to my apartment. I've only walked past a few houses when a chill suddenly creeps down my spine, having absolutely nothing to do with the cold.I’m not sure what sets me off first—the way the air suddenly feels heavier or the prickling sensation at the back of my neck. But the moment I stop to listen closely, I hear it.Footsteps. Slow. Careful. Too careful. Like they have purpose.My breath hitches, and my fingers tighten around the strap of my bag. It could be nothing—someone else walking home or going for an evening stroll—but my gut tells me otherwise.Forcing my legs to keep a steady pace, I walk faster, my heart pounding with every step. The streets aren’t deserted, but they’re quiet enough that every little noise feels amplified.I turn the corner onto my street, my building in sight. Almost there.But my heart lurches when the footsteps behind me seem to pick up speed, closing in.

    Last Updated : 2025-02-26
  • Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Ten

    𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐚Standing before the full-length mirror in my room, I smooth my hands over the silky, cream dress I’d chosen for tonight's occasion. Soft and elegant, despite coming from a clearance rack, it fits snugly yet remains modest. Understated. And exactly what I need to blend in tonight. After that dreadful night few months ago, wearing anything remotely revealing feels impossible.My makeup is minimal—light foundation, a hint of blush, and soft nude gloss. Nothing too bold or attention-grabbing. My choice of jewelry is a pair of delicate silver earrings and a matching bracelet on my wrist. I tilt my head slightly, studying my reflection. My midnight-black hair is swept into a neat bun, with a few stray curls left to frame my face. It doesn’t exactly make me unrecognizable, but it'll have to do.Through the mirror, I spot my best friend behind me, leaning against my bedroom doorway with her arms crossed, a knowing smirk tugging on her lips. “I must say you clean up real nicely,

    Last Updated : 2025-02-28
  • Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Eleven

    𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐚Marcos’s car slows to a smooth stop in front of an estate straight out of a European aristocrat’s dream. Towering Corinthian columns rise along the grand façade, their pristine white stone carved with intricate lines and details that tell of a wealth spanning generations. A stately pediment crowns the entrance, adorned with elegant reliefs, while wrought-iron balconies curve above tall, arched windows that gleam beneath the chandelier-lit interior. The mansion’s pristine symmetry, from its ornate cornices to the black mansard roof edged with decorative railings, exudes a timeless authority.At the heart of the circular driveway, a tiered marble fountain cascades in soft ripples, the sound blending with the distant hum of classical music being played inside. Sculpted hedges and ornate lampposts frame the path leading to the grand staircase, where a set of gleaming double doors await beneath an opulent glass chandelier.Against the backdrop of the dark but starry night sky,

    Last Updated : 2025-02-28

Latest chapter

  • Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Sixty

    𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚I sit behind the wheel, fingers drumming restlessly against the steering. For the tenth time, I check the time on the dashboard. She’s not late—not really. But my nerves are a different story.At her insistence, today’s outing is to be strictly casual. No romance, no pressure, no expectations. I tried to pick the most un-date-like date imaginable. So, football. The one place people shout themselves hoarse, spill overpriced beer on each other, and wear matching jerseys without anyone batting an eye.Still, even with all the effort to keep things simple, I’m nervous. Because it’s her.Then, I see her car pull into the lot.She steps out, and everything slows. She’s wearing the team jersey I’d sent her—red and white, the same as mine—paired with light blue jeans and white sneakers. Casual. Effortless. Gorgeous.She tosses me a small smirk as she approaches. “Don’t look so surprised, doctor. I do own casual clothes.”“You’re sure you’re not secretly trying to outshine the pla

  • Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Fifty-Nine

    𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚His office is still the calm, neat space I remember, though now I notice how strikingly organized it is. The books on the shelf are arranged alphabetically, a soft lavender-scented diffuser hums in the corner, and a small bonsai tree sits by the window like a gentle sentinel. There’s not a single paper out of place, every pen lined up with precision. It’s the kind of space that mirrors Marcus himself—composed, measured, and quietly meticulous.He closes the door behind me and gestures to the chair opposite his desk. I sink into it wordlessly as he moves around, taking his usual seat behind the desk and resting both hands on the surface like he’s bracing for something heavier than an update.“Florence is healing faster than expected,” he begins. His voice is calm but firm, always steady. “Her vitals are stable, her scans are clean, and she’s responding well to treatment. If everything stays on track, she could be discharged by next weekend.”I close my eyes for a brief sec

  • Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Fifty-Seven

    𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚I linger in the hallway for a while, staring at the half-open hospital door like it’s a threshold to something I’m not ready to face. Inside, Marcus still plays with Florence, their laughter carrying softly into the corridor like a warm breeze on a cold day. My hand is frozen mid-air, inches from pushing the door open, but I just… can’t.Not yet.My emotions are too jumbled—grief, gratitude, guilt, and something dangerously close to longing. Seeing him like that—soft and unguarded—reminded me of a version of him I hadn’t allowed myself to imagine. It’s disarming. And it’s why I turn away, intending to head back toward the elevators, maybe find a quiet place to gather myself.But as I turn, I nearly collide with someone.She’s standing silently behind me—slender, in a wrinkled blouse and jeans, her coat draped hastily over one arm. Her hair is in a messy bun, strands falling loose around her tired but softened features. I recognize her immediately: the child’s mother.She

  • Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Fifty-Seven

    𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚It’s just past 10 a.m. when my personal assistant, Winifred, bursts into my office, tablet in hand, eyes gleaming with the kind of enthusiasm that usually spells either disaster or a sudden stroke of genius. I look up from the contract I’ve been revising for the last twenty minutes, one brow lifting in silent question.“You’re going to want to see this, Miss. Hawthorne,” she says, practically skipping to my desk.“Please tell me that’s not another scandal brewing,” I mutter, half-joking. After the week I’ve had, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone’s unearthed some long-forgotten college photos or declared I secretly run a cult in my spare time.“Quite the opposite actually, Boss.” Winnie swings the tablet around so I can see the analytics dashboard. “Sales are up. Way up. Nearly thirty-two percent since yesterday. Online traffic has doubled since this morning alone. And…” she swipes to another page, “…our social sentiment index has shifted. Positively.”I blink at the numb

  • Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Fifty-Six

    𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨𝐬Saturday afternoon stretches out before me like a question I don't quite have the answer to. I'm home, sitting at the edge of the leather sofa, phone in hand, thumb hovering over Aretha's contact.Should I text her? Call her? Ask how she's holding up?The memory of last night lingers. Her trembling voice. The kiss. That look in her eyes when she pulled away. Part fear, part need. And then, nothing. Silence since.I sigh and toss the phone onto the couch beside me, running both hands down my face. She's probably overwhelmed, dealing with press vultures and her family. The last thing she needs is me barging into her peace—or what's left of it.A ping vibrates on my phone. It’s from Cameron: "Meeting at the club. 5PM sharp. Drinks on Nathaniel. Don’t be late."I almost laugh. Nathaniel probably didn’t even agree to that.• • •The gentleman’s club isn’t as rowdy as usual. Rich men in tailored suits, cigars in one hand, arrogance in the other. Gold accents glint in the dim li

  • Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Fifty-Five

    𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚I wake up to the distinct scent of chamomile tea and the soft clinking of china. For a brief second, I think I’ve dreamt it all up—the accident, the hospital, the mother’s accusations, the kiss with Marcos. But when I open my eyes and see Mom standing at the foot of my bed, holding a tray while wearing her signature pinched expression of maternal concern, I know I didn’t.“Aretha, darling,” she says carefully, as though afraid she might shatter me if she speaks too loudly, “you don’t have to go in today.”I sit up, blinking away the sleep from my eyes. “I do.”“You shouldn’t.” She sets the tray on my bedside table. “Not after everything yesterday. The media is going to be relentless. And emotionally, you’re—”“I’m fine, Mom. Seriously. I appreciate your concern, though.”She gives me a look that says she’s not convinced, but she knows me well enough not to argue. Still, she lingers while I get ready, watching me like I’m about to unravel. I offer a small smile and a kiss

  • Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Fifty-Four

    𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨𝐬I stand rooted to the cold, polished hospital floor, my mind reeling as Aretha’s words echo like a chime struck in the deepest part of me."I know very well what it feels like to lose a child."She says it so softly, so simply, like it’s just another sentence in a long list of things that have happened to her—but it lands like a gut punch. I don’t move as she turns and walks away, her back straight, her head high, but her shoulders… her shoulders tremble the slightest bit.I’ve seen death on the table. I’ve watched people code right in front of me, seen mothers scream over sons and children collapse into the arms of nurses. But this? This is different. This is the kind of pain that doesn’t bleed on the outside.The mother of the injured girl stands silently beside me, unsure now—maybe ashamed. Her anger drains the moment Aretha disappears around the corner. She says nothing more, just quietly returns to the waiting area, clinging to the hope I gave her minutes ago.I take

  • Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Fifty-Three

    𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚The hospital air is cold—too cold. It seeps through my skin and settles deep into my bones, making me feel like I’m walking through a fog. I sit on one of the stiff plastic chairs in the waiting area, hands clasped tightly in my lap. I must’ve checked the time on my phone a hundred times in the past hour, each glance bringing no new relief.Where are they? Why hasn’t anyone come out yet?I chew on the inside of my cheek, my mind replaying the accident in a relentless loop. The sickening thud of her body brushing the jeep’s front grille, the sharp scream that tore from my lips, the way Alfie clutched my hand so tightly as we rushed out of the car. That little girl—so small, so fragile—just darting across like life was a game of tag.I’ve tried to breathe. I’ve tried to pray. Nothing sticks. I feel like I’m going to break apart, right here in this freezing corridor.Then I hear footsteps. Sharp. Hasty. Unforgiving.My eyes lift just in time to see a woman charging toward me

  • Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Fifty-Two

    𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚The mall is buzzing with energy as Alfie and I walk hand-in-hand past the storefronts, our steps matching in rhythm. He’s practically bouncing beside me, excitement fizzing off him like a shaken soda.“I want to check out the new Nintendo games!” he exclaims, tugging my arm like he’s trying to drag me there himself.I laugh, adjusting my sunglasses as I glance around. “We’ll get there, little man. Let’s start with shoes first. You’ve outgrown yours—your toes are probably screaming.”“My toes are fine,” he mutters dramatically, but he doesn't protest when I guide him into the kids’ footwear store.He slips onto a little bench as the attendant brings options in his size. I sit beside him, watching his nose wrinkle as he examines a pair of lime green sneakers.“These are loud,” he declares. “Like, even the birds would hear me coming.”I snort. “Isn’t that the point? So the entire house can hear when you try to sneak cookies after bedtime?”He flashes me a mischievous grin. “

Explore and read good novels for free
Free access to a vast number of good novels on GoodNovel app. Download the books you like and read anywhere & anytime.
Read books for free on the app
SCAN CODE TO READ ON APP
DMCA.com Protection Status