All Chapters of The Cross Family: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

27 Chapters

Emptiness

The Smith mansion was as vast and immaculate as the photographs in glossy lifestyle magazines suggested, but Mya had long since stopped seeing its grandeur. The marble floors reflected her heels as she crossed the foyer, each step echoing back at her as though mocking the silence. The high ceilings and chandeliers were impressive to guests, but to her they were only reminders of how empty this house felt. It was beautiful—coldly beautiful, like the surface of a diamond that cut her skin every time she touched it.She had been Mya Smith for three years. Three years of luxury clothing, designer jewelry, and chauffeurs waiting at the curb in sleek black cars. On paper, she had everything a woman could want. In reality, she had never felt so invisible. Damon was rarely home. When he was, he lived behind the glow of his phone or buried in meetings that carried into the night. Their marriage, hailed in the press as a “power couple union,” was nothing but a hollow shell.Mya paused in the li

Last Updated : 2025-09-30

Gilded Cage

The days in the Smith mansion bled together, each one as polished and sterile as the marble floors that stretched through its endless halls. To outsiders, Mya’s life must have looked like a dream — a husband who was a billionaire CEO, a wardrobe filled with couture, and the kind of address whispered with awe. But to Mya, every day was another exercise in endurance.She woke each morning to find Damon’s side of the bed cold. If he had come home at all during the night, he had slipped in without disturbing her, only to rise before dawn and vanish again. His scent lingered faintly on the pillows — crisp cologne and leather — but the man himself was absent. She had stopped waiting up for him after too many nights spent in silence, staring at the door, only to watch the clock tick past two, three, sometimes four in the morning.Breakfast was always the same. She sat at the long dining table while staff laid out an immaculate spread: fresh croissants, smoked salmon, exotic fruit. Lorraine a

Last Updated : 2025-09-30

Final Straw

The sound carried down the polished marble hallway, muffled at first but unmistakable. Laughter — low, intimate, sharp-edged. Mya paused, the tray in her hands balanced so carefully it might have been made of glass itself. She hadn’t been asked to bring anything to Damon’s study. No one ever asked her for anything in this house. But sometimes she walked the corridors with a book or a cup of tea, just to feel present. Just to remind herself that she was still here, still alive, still human.She shifted the weight of the tray slightly, her fingers tightening on its handles as another ripple of laughter floated through the half-open door. This time, it was clearer. Damon’s voice first, rich with amusement — a sound so unfamiliar that it startled her. When was the last time she’d heard her husband laugh like that? Certainly not with her. Not at her jokes, not at her attempts to make conversation over cold dinners.Then came the second voice, lilting and satisfied, smooth as cream poured o

Last Updated : 2025-09-30

Done

The next morning, the house was hushed, but Mya felt something thrumming beneath her skin like the low hum of a storm waiting to break. She woke before the servants stirred, before Lorraine’s clipped footsteps rang through the corridors, before Caroline’s shrill voice carried over the breakfast table.Her room was still cloaked in shadows when she stepped toward the wardrobe. For years, she had let Lorraine’s sharp tongue dictate her clothing choices. Pale colors suit you. They soften your edges. She had listened, dutiful and pliant, slipping into blues and grays, never daring to stand out too boldly. Lorraine had called it refinement, but Mya understood the truth: it was camouflage, a way of making her disappear into the background.Not today.Her fingers trailed over rows of soft fabrics until they stopped on crimson silk. She drew the dress out carefully, the fabric whispering against her skin as she slipped it on. It clung to her body like a second skin, every curve bold and unden

Last Updated : 2025-09-30

Begin

Mya folded the first dress with the slow precision of a ritual and laid it into the suitcase. It was a quiet blue, the kind Lorraine always said made her “graceful.” She pressed her palm to the fabric, not in farewell, but in assessment, deciding what to leave behind. The walk-in closet glowed with soft recessed lights and mirrored doors, a chapel to consumption. Silk hung beside cashmere in neat runs of color; boxes with gold-embossed logos climbed the shelves like a skyline. It should have felt like treasure. It felt like inventory in a store that did not belong to her.She took two more dresses—practical ones she’d bought with her own small pre-marriage savings—and rolled them tight. She added a pair of dark jeans and a simple white blouse that fit her like truth. The rest stayed on their velvet hangers. She zipped the first case and set it by the door.Her jewelry tray glittered on the vanity: diamonds Damon’s mother had insisted upon for galas, a necklace Mya had never worn witho

Last Updated : 2025-09-30

Fallout

The first morning on her own started with a door that stuck a little and a window that didn’t quite shut out the city noise. The place smelled faintly of fresh paint and someone else’s takeout. The building manager had called it a “junior one-bedroom.” It was more like a studio with aspirations. A narrow kitchenette pressed along one wall: two burners, a bar sink, a mini fridge trying hard. A table the size of a chessboard sat by the window, and next to it, a futon that unfolded into a bed if you coaxed it.Mya stood in the middle and listened. No staff moving down the hall. No clipped voice asking for her RSVP. No Lorraine tapping a spoon at breakfast. Just traffic, a siren somewhere far away, a dog barking on a lower floor. It was messy and a little loud and hers until she couldnt afford it anymore, which would be in less than two more days.She made coffee on the stovetop and watched it bloom. It tasted regular. Not imported, not nonsense. She burned her tongue and smiled, because

Last Updated : 2025-09-30

Silent Regret

The television played in the background, muted but relentless. Across the screen, clips of reporters and flashing banners cycled: “Smith Industries CEO Damon Smith Faces Divorce”, “Wife Walks Out, No Official Statement Released.” The same loop of grainy footage rolled again — Mya in crimson silk, suitcase at her side, the faint sound of reporters calling questions that she hadn’t answered.Damon sat in his father’s old leather chair in the study, his tie undone, one arm draped along the armrest. He wasn’t watching the TV so much as letting it watch him. The images replayed in his head even when he closed his eyes.His mother’s voice cut through the silence.“Honestly,” Lorraine said, perched on the edge of the sofa, her pearls gleaming in the lamplight. “The girl has no sense of propriety. Walking out without an announcement? Leaving the staff whispering? It’s vulgar.”Caroline laughed, sharp and mean, sprawled against the cushions like she owned them. “The networks are having a field

Last Updated : 2025-09-30

I Will Not Give Up

Mya sat at the small table in her apartment, the chipped mug of coffee cooling beside her untouched. Her fingers toyed with the corner of yet another application, the paper softening at the edges from being folded and unfolded too many times. The stack was growing—half a dozen here, another pile on the counter, more tucked into her tote bag. She had filled out forms for waitressing jobs, retail shops, even a dry cleaner down the block.She’d walked to each place, smiled politely, handed over her résumé that had little on it besides “volunteer work” and a few freelance projects. Each time, the manager had promised to “get back to her.” And each time, the phone stayed silent.It had been weeks now. Her savings—what little she had kept separate before the marriage—was gone. What she hadn’t spent on rent had gone to groceries, bus fare, and laundry. She had stretched every dollar until it tore. Now, the cupboards held only rice, a few cans of soup, and the stale heel of bread she had been

Last Updated : 2025-09-30

Choosing the Table

The dining room gleamed like a museum at closing time—perfect, a little too quiet, every surface waiting to be admired. Damon had always liked this room: the long walnut table, the low chandelier with its glass teardrops, the cool silver on linen. Tonight the polish made his teeth ache. The crystal caught the light and threw little stars across the walls. He wished the lights would stop trying so hard.Lorraine sat at her end of the table, posture erect, napkin creased just so. Caroline lounged halfway down, chin propped in her palm, her phone face down beside her plate like a restrained animal. Sloane had taken the seat to Damon’s right—close enough to share the same air, far enough to pose for any camera that might materialize in his imagination.The first course arrived, all pale halibut and dill foam that looked like a cloud had lost its way. Damon cut into it and chewed because chewing kept him from saying anything he might later have to explain.Lorraine cleared her throat with

Last Updated : 2025-09-30

Static and Silence

By the fourth week, the stack of applications looked like a house of cards: flimsy, precise, one breath from collapse.Mya stood in the doorway of the last café on her list—the kind with mason jars of sugar and a chalkboard menu that shed white dust on everyone who leaned too close. The manager, a tired woman with kind eyes, gave the same speech Mya had been collecting all day.“We filled it this morning, I’m so sorry. We’ll keep your résumé on file.”Mya nodded, tried to smile, and folded the paper back into her tote. “Thank you for your time.”“Try again next month,” the woman offered, helpless. “Sometimes people don’t show.”Sometimes. The word had started to feel like a practical joke. The bell over the door clinked when Mya left, and the air outside felt colder than it had an hour ago. She checked the list on her phone and swiped through her own trail: bookstore—“we hired a student last night.” Boutique—“we’re shifting to online.” Diner—“my nephew needs hours.” Dry cleaner—“insur

Last Updated : 2025-09-30

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