BURNING TO THE GROUND

Chelsea’s POV “Boss… we were rushing her into the ER now. The hospital’s in sight.” The voice faltered. Just slightly. Enough to make my chest tighten. “What happened?” I could hear Ricci yell through the phone. “There was a lot of blood. She was unstable. The twins—” The rest blurred. The ceiling lights streaked above me as they pushed the gurney faster, hands pressing down on my side, voices overlapping, numbers being counted that didn’t mean anything to me. My body felt distant, like it had already started letting go. My babies are gone? Again? I tried to speak. Tried to ask them to repeat it. To tell me they were wrong. That they hadn’t checked properly. My lips moved, but no sound came out. My throat burned. Anger and resentment filled me instantly. Why do they want me dead? Aria’s voice flickered through my mind. The warning look I’d ignored. The way she’d hesitated before letting me walk away. That bitch. Does she know about this too? I just wanted

Last Updated : 2025-12-18

DEEP IN HER SKULL

CHELSEA’S POV They let me go after three days. ‘Oh Mrs Chelsea, your body bounced back stronger than ever.’ The doctor said it like it was a good thing. Three fucking days ago I almost died. Matter of fact. I did. I died. I died because whatever life is in me, is not mine. Ricci held my hand the whole drive back. I didn’t remember the road, the city, or the iron gates opening slowly in front of us—but my body reacted anyway. My stomach tightened. My shoulders stiffened. Back to the fuck ass hell hole. The manor felt wrong. Not haunted. Not dramatic. Just wrong. Like a place where something bad had already decided to happen again. Darkened lurked everywhere. What happened to this place? Ricci didn’t let go of me inside. He stayed close, too close, like if he loosened his grip I’d fall through the floor. At night I woke up gasping like the world was crashing down and every time, his arms were already around me. “I’m here,” he kept saying. “You’re okay.” I belie

Last Updated : 2025-12-23

NIGHTS LIKE THIS

NARRATOR’s POV: The police did not announce themselves when they arrived at the Rutherford manor. They never did anymore. Their visits had become so frequent, sending in notices became unnecessary… nobody even read those things. Black vehicles slid past the iron gates like they owned the land, tires crunching softly against gravel that had once welcomed governors, tycoons, men who shook hands with power and left richer for it. Tonight, the house did not glow…it’s been chaos and confusion for a while now. The lights were selective. Strategic. Nathara Rutherford stood at the center of the drawing room, dressed in black silk, posture immaculate, eyes sharp enough to cut glass. She let out a brisk laugh as the officers walked through her door. “Mrs Rutherford,” the lead officer began, flipping open a leather folder, “you are being questioned again in connection with the disappearance and presumed death of your husband, Blake Rutherford, as well as allegations of obstruction o

Last Updated : 2025-12-27

BIG NEWS BABY

NARRATOR’S POV: The operating room was silent except for the rhythmic beeping of machines, counting down the minutes of Chelsea’s life. Fourteen hours. Thats’s how long the surgery lasted. Every minute felt like eternity. Fourteen hours of surgeons moving in perfect coordination, of blood and precision, of a bullet lodged deep inside her skull being carefully extracted. Outside the glass wall, Ricci stood rigid, hands pressed against the counter, watching without looking. His heart was too loud; it drowned out the soft whirring of the monitors. He kept one thing in mind: Chelsea must stay alive. Finally, a voice broke the tension. “It’s out. She’s stable.” A surgeon said, walking out of the operating room in such a hurry, Ricci couldn’t start a conversation. After standing and holding his breath for fourteen hours, he could finally move and breathe. The news delivered by the surgeon sounded better than anything Ricci has ever heard. Relief hit him like

Last Updated : 2025-12-29

HAND ME MY OWN

The first scream ripped through the Rutherford manor at exactly 5:12 a.m. Nathara had called all the staff members for a meeting… things like this never end well. “Who spoke to the press?” Nathara Rutherford stood at the head of the sitting room, robe immaculate, hair pinned neatly back, a cup of untouched tea cooling beside her. Her voice was calm—too calm. That was how everyone knew it was already over. The staff stood like robots. Hundreds of them. Some barefoot. Some still in uniform. One woman’s hands shook so badly the tray she’d been carrying lay shattered at her feet. “I’m not repeating myself,” Nathara said, glancing at her watch. “Someone here talked. If you don’t tell me who, I’ll decide for you.” A man stepped forward. Middle-aged. New hire. “Madam, please. I have children.” Nathara looked at him, mildly curious. “And?” “I have nothing to do with this. I just got the job two days ago. Ma please I…” “Young man!” Nathara interrupted him. “You don

Last Updated : 2026-01-02

ASHES AND HAILS

The manor did not celebrate the marriage. The one between Ricci and Aria? Yeah. The most dead wedding ever witnessed. No flowers arrived at its gates. No champagne was chilled in anticipation. No laughter followed the announcement down the marble corridors. No guests, no glass raised in cheers. The Rutherford estate absorbed the news the way it absorbed everything else—quietly, bitterly, with something rotten settling deeper into its bones. Aria woke alone. The space beside her on the bed was untouched, cold, as if no one had even considered lying there. Ricci hadn’t slept beside her. He hadn’t come in late. He hadn’t pretended. The sheets were still too neat, too deliberate, like the room itself refused to acknowledge what had been signed into existence. She lay on her side, one hand resting on her stomach out of instinct rather than comfort, staring at the ceiling while dawn bled slowly through the curtains. This is the life she so desperately wanted. The life she thought

Last Updated : 2026-01-03