Chapter 3

Gloria Carpenter POV:

The world outside my hospital window continued on, oblivious. Cars moved, people walked, life unfolded. Inside, time had stopped, frozen in a tableau of grief and antiseptic white. Three days had passed in a blur of pain, IV drips, and the suffocating silence of my husband' s absence.

Then my phone buzzed. A video message. From Florence.

My thumb trembled as I pressed play.

The image that filled the screen was a masterpiece of calculated cruelty. Florence, looking pale and fragile in a silk dressing gown, was propped up on a mountain of pillows in what was clearly Kade' s bed. Kade himself was sitting on the edge, patiently spoon-feeding her soup, his expression a mask of intense concentration and concern. Carlisle was on her other side, peeling a piece of fruit with a small silver knife.

"You two are just the best," Florence cooed, her voice a saccharine whisper. She placed a hand on her still-flat stomach. "Thank you for taking such good care of me... and the baby. I don' t know what I' d do without you."

The camera panned slightly, showing a crowd of their friends and family gathered in the room, all looking on with adoring smiles. It was a party. A celebration.

Someone off-camera asked, "Where' s Gloria? Shouldn' t she be here?"

The question was quickly drowned out by a chorus of praise for how devoted the Conrad twins were.

The video ended.

It wasn' t a message. It was a victory lap. A deliberate, vicious taunt.

I looked over at Charlene. She was holding her own phone, her face a rigid mask of fury. She' d received the exact same video.

"That' s it," she said, her voice dangerously calm. "I' m done feeling sad. Now, I' m just angry."

"Me too," I whispered, a cold fire igniting in my chest. I took a deep breath, the pain in my ribs a dull ache. "Make the call, Char."

While Charlene contacted our family' s lawyer, I navigated to the official government portal on my phone. My fingers flew across the screen, filling out the forms. Name: Gloria Carpenter. Spouse: Kade Conrad. Reason for dissolution: Irreconcilable differences.

I hit 'submit' without a moment of hesitation. A confirmation email arrived instantly. The divorce was filed. The first official shot in our war had been fired. I forwarded the documents to Kade' s personal email with a simple subject line: Signature Required.

Two days passed. The silence from his end was absolute. No email. No call. No flicker of acknowledgment through our now-severed bond. It was as if I didn't exist. My patience, already worn to a thread, snapped.

I dialed his number. He answered on the second ring.

"What do you want, Gloria?" His voice was harsh, impatient.

"Did you get my email?"

"I' ve been busy. And frankly, after your little stunt, you' re lucky I' m talking to you at all. Do you have any idea how much trouble you' ve caused? Dragging Charlene into your melodrama."

"Did you. Get. The email."

"Yes, I got the goddamn email!" he exploded. "And you can forget it. I' m not signing anything. You want to act like a child, fine. But you' re still my wife. Now stop bothering me. If you keep this up, I might not want to come home at all."

The sheer, breathtaking arrogance of it left me speechless. He thought this was a game. A tantrum. He thought I was trying to get his attention. The self-centered narcissism was so profound it was almost comical.

Then I heard her voice in the background, syrupy sweet. "Kade, honey, who is it? Is everything okay?"

He shushed her, but not before I heard him murmur, "Just business."

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "Busy taking care of Florence, I see. Is she feeling better? I know how traumatic a broken nail can be."

"Don' t you dare talk about her like that!" he snarled. "She' s not feeling well. She' s pregnant, for Christ' s sake. She needs to be taken care of. She needs rest."

Pregnant. Baby. The words were like daggers to my heart. My vision swam. All the air rushed out of my lungs.

"What about our baby, Kade?" The question was a raw wound, torn from the deepest part of my soul. "Did you ever once ask about our baby? Your son?"

His silence was a confession.

Then Florence' s voice, closer this time, oozing with fake sympathy. "Oh, Gloria, sweetie, are you still upset about that? I' m so, so sorry for your loss. Truly. But maybe... maybe it was for the best. You seem so... unstable. It' s probably a blessing in disguise."

A strangled sound came from my throat. My hand flew to my mouth as if to hold back the scream building inside me. The room started to spin. I couldn' t breathe. Physical pain, sharp and searing, shot through my abdomen, an echo of the kick that had taken my son from me.

And Kade... Kade said nothing. He let her say it. He let her call the death of his child a 'blessing' .

"See?" he finally said, his voice cold and distant. "You' re hysterical. Florence is right. You need to calm down."

Tears streamed down my face, hot and silent. He would never get it. He would never care. To him, our child was an inconvenience. My pain was a drama. I was just a nuisance getting in the way of his devotion to her.

He had already cut the mental link, but now it felt like he was severing my very soul. The connection shriveled and died, leaving a gaping, black void where it used to be.

The pain was overwhelming. I dropped the phone and doubled over, a raw, animalistic sob tearing from my lungs.

Charlene was by my side in an instant, her arms wrapping around me, her own tears wetting my hair. "He' s not worth it, Glo," she whispered fiercely, her voice thick with rage. "He' s a monster. They both are."

She picked up my phone, her eyes blazing. "We' re not waiting for their permission," she said, her voice like steel.

"We' re going straight to the Council. We' ll get a mandatory dissolution. Let' s see them ignore that."