My Body, Your Empire

Consciousness returned in painful, jagged shards. The last thing I remembered was the blinding glare of headlights, Ethan's sharp, sudden turn of the wheel, and the sickening crunch of metal.

Then, nothing.

Until now.

A faint, rhythmic beeping. The sharp, sterile smell of antiseptic.

My head throbbed.

A bright light glared above me.

Panic, cold and swift, tightened my chest.

This wasn't right.

Then I heard voices.

Muffled at first, then clearer.

Ethan's voice, sharp with impatience.

And another, deeper, calmer, but strained.

"Ethan, this is insane. It's a Class A felony. She was in a car crash you orchestrated. She's in a coma, she can't consent!"

That was Ben Carter's voice.

Dr. Ben Carter. Ethan's old friend from Yale. A surgeon.

My blood ran cold.

"Consent?" Ethan scoffed, his voice dripping with a chilling pragmatism I knew too well. "I have her medical power of attorney. I am her fiancé. As far as this hospital is concerned, I speak for her. And I am telling you, this is what she would have wanted."

"She's my girlfriend, Ben. Practically my wife."

"To give a kidney to the woman who tormented her? After a car crash you caused? Ethan, you're asking me to commit murder on the operating table. They'll take my license. I'll go to prison for life."

"And what about that malpractice suit in residency, Ben? The one that just... disappeared? The one I made go away? Chloe needs this kidney. Ava is a perfect match. You owe me this. Consider your debt paid."

A choked sound from Ben. The silence that followed was more damning than any agreement.

Chloe.

Of course.

Chloe Vahn, the beautiful, hollow woman who had always held a piece of Ethan's soul, the piece I could never reach. Chloe, who had abandoned him when he was broken after that Aspen skiing accident, only to reappear when he was powerful again.

"A small price?" Ben's voice was incredulous, laced with a fury I'd rarely heard from him. "Her kidney, Ethan? After everything she's done for you?"

"She put her entire career on hold."

"She used experimental treatments on herself to get you walking again when Chloe wouldn't even answer your calls!"

Ethan's reply was flat, devoid of emotion. "Chloe was scared. She's delicate."

"Ava is strong."

"Besides, I'll marry Ava. She's always wanted that. Consider it compensation."

"Chloe needs this more. Her life is at stake."

Delicate? Chloe, whose recklessness had led her to this point, acute renal failure.

Strong? Was that my reward for years of unwavering devotion? For the miscarriage I still mourned, the one I blamed on my own stress, never suspecting the "herbal supplements" Ethan had encouraged me to take, supplements Chloe had provided?

Tears pricked my eyes, hot and furious.

Betrayal, so profound it stole my breath, flooded through me.

My body felt like lead.

I tried to move, to scream, but only a faint groan escaped my lips.

Darkness swirled again, pulling me under.

I felt a pressure, a tugging sensation on my side.

Then, a searing line of fire.

The scalpel.

My mind reeled. Ten years. A decade of love, of sacrifice. Pouring my intellect, my biotech research-research that had once promised a brilliant future for me-into his recovery, into his company, Reed Innovate. Building him back up, piece by piece.

For this.

To be carved up like an animal, a resource to be plundered for the woman he truly desired.

The darkness swirled again, beckoning.

This time, I welcomed it.

The physical agony was a dull echo of the torment ripping through my soul.

My kidney. My love. My life, sacrificed on the altar of his obsession.

When I next surfaced, the bright overhead light was gone. I was in a different room. A hospital room, sterile and cold. A dull ache throbbed in my side. My throat was raw.

The door opened, and Ethan walked in, his expression carefully arranged into one of concern. He sat by the bed, took my hand. His felt clammy.

"Ava, thank God. You gave us quite a scare."

I stared at him, my vision blurry.

"You had a ruptured kidney, Ava," he said, his voice smooth, practiced. "From the car crash. We had to perform an emergency nephrectomy. But you're going to be okay. Ben Carter did a fantastic job."

Lies. All lies.

The casual cruelty of it was a fresh stab to my already bleeding heart.

I wanted to scream, to rage, to tear him apart.

But only tears came, silent, bitter tears that tracked down my temples into my hair.

He squeezed my hand, a gesture that now felt like a violation. "Hey, don't cry. It's over. You're safe."

Safe. I had never been less safe.

His phone buzzed. He glanced at it, his feigned concern vanishing, replaced by an all-too-familiar attentiveness.

"It's Chloe," he murmured, already standing. "She's a bit shaken up. Worried about you, of course. But she's desperate for that artisanal gelato from L'Arte del Gelato down in Tribeca. You know how she gets."

He leaned down, brushed a kiss on my forehead. It felt like ice.

"I'll be back later. Rest."

And just like that, he was gone.

Abandoned. Again. For Chloe.

The door clicked shut behind him.

The silence in the room was heavy, broken only by the distant wail of a siren and the quiet hum of medical equipment.

Later, two nurses bustled in. Their hushed conversation, not meant for my ears, drifted over.

"Mr. Reed is so devoted to Ms. Vahn, isn't he? Rushing off to get her gelato."

"She's a lucky woman. He barely left her side after her kidney transplant."

Kidney transplant. Chloe's kidney transplant. My kidney.

The pieces slammed together with brutal clarity.

My despair solidified into a cold, hard resolve.

This was it. The end.

No more chances. No more excuses.

My hand fumbled for my phone on the bedside table. My fingers trembled as I scrolled through my contacts. My heart pounded, not with fear, but with a desperate, burgeoning hope.

Noah Hayes.

Ethan's main business rival in Austin.

A man known for his integrity, his quiet brilliance.

We'd met once, years ago, at a tech ethics panel. He'd listened intently as I spoke, his gaze thoughtful. I remembered his firm handshake, the respect in his eyes.

I took a shaky breath.

The phone rang twice.

"Noah Hayes." His voice was calm, steady.

"Noah," I managed, my voice raspy. "It's Ava Miller."

A pause. Not long, but enough for me to feel a flicker of doubt.

"Ava," he said, his tone shifting, a hint of surprise, perhaps concern. "Are you alright? You sound..."

"Noah," I cut in, the words tumbling out before I could lose my nerve. "Are you still looking for a COO who knows Reed Innovate's strategies... and perhaps," I took another shaky breath, "a wife?"

The silence on the other end was profound, stretching for what felt like an eternity. I closed my eyes, bracing for rejection, for confusion.

Then, his voice, low and serious.

"My jet, seven days. LaGuardia."

"But Ava," he paused, and I could almost hear him choosing his words carefully, "with me, there's no looking back. Are you sure?"

Tears, hot and cleansing this time, welled in my eyes.

"I'm sure, Noah."

"Good," he said. "Seven days."

The line clicked.

I stared at my phone, a lifeline.

Seven days.

A new city. A new life. A chance.

I swiped through the airline apps, my fingers surprisingly steady.

Austin. One way.