The Mafias Good Wife

Rising From Wreckage: Starfall's Epic Comeback

Huo Wuer

Rain hammered against the asphalt as my sedan spun violently into the guardrail on the I-95. Blood trickled down my temple, stinging my eyes, while the rhythmic slap of the windshield wipers mocked my panic. Trembling, I dialed my husband, Clive. His executive assistant answered instead, his voice professional and utterly cold. "Mr. Wilson says to stop the theatrics. He said, and I quote, 'Hang up. Tell her I don't have time for her emotional blackmail tonight.'" The line went dead while I was still trapped in the wreckage. At the hospital, I watched the news footage of Clive wrapping his jacket around his "fragile" ex-girlfriend, Angelena, shielding her from the storm I was currently bleeding in. When I returned to our penthouse, I found a prenatal ultrasound in his suit pocket, dated the day he claimed to be on a business trip. Instead of an apology, Clive met me with a sneer. He told me I was nothing but an "expensive decoration" his father bought to make him look stable. He froze my bank accounts and cut off my cards, waiting for the hunger to drive me back to his feet. I stared at the man I had loved for four years, realizing he didn't just want a wife; he wanted a prop he could switch off. He thought he could starve me into submission while he played father to another woman's child. But Clive forgot one thing. Before I was his trophy wife, I was Starfall-the legendary voice actress who vanished at the height of her fame. "I'm not jealous, Clive. I'm done." I grabbed my old microphone and walked out. I'm not just leaving him; I'm taking the lead role in the biggest saga in Hollywood-the one Angelena is desperate for. This time, the "decoration" is going to burn his world down.

Modern Revenge Divorce

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Sofia.

4:00 AM

Groaning as I got awakened by certain noises I couldn't point out and that weren't very far away from my isolated cabin. Geez, couldn't a person sleep in peace? I repetitively groaned and moaned in annoyance.

"The heck?" I tried turning on the light just to be instantly disappointed. Why right the fudge now, Gods?

I subtly looked out the window of my bedroom to glimpse a tainted black SUV and two men dressed in black clothing, dragging another....man out of the trunk like a sack of damn potatoes and throwing him near the thick bushes on the side to speed out and leave me still shocked at what the heck just happened?

Why would they do that? Who were they? is that man still alive? Oh crap, what if he's dead?

I...have a dead body on my fucking property!

My hands shook as I sweat dropped and began pacing around in the dark. What am I going to do? How the hell am I supposed to call the ambulance or the Sheriff when the electricity was off and my phone dead? What if they returned and came after me?!

"No, no, no! Positive thoughts, Sofia. Get out of your head!" Realizing that I had been cooped up in my thinking and shocked state, I shook off that fear that the dangerous looking men might have killed an innocent human being and threw him near my home.

And might possibly, kinda, maybe, perhaps, come after me if they were still out there.

I discarded that last thought, a slither of rationality coming back to me.

Maybe they thought that my cabin was abandoned, right? They weren't coming back, here...?

Oh Crap.

I quickly threw on my black hoodie on my hanger and wore my Crocs as I held onto my small flashlight and small swiss knife- for safety measures- to help the injured and possibly half dead man outside.

The cold breeze made my skin prickle like gooseflesh as I opened my door, hushed prayers leaving my lips hastily before I jogged in the direction that I'd seen those monsters throw the man.

As I near the thick bush I start hearing, faint groaning and hissing coming from him, I sighed out a breath of relief that the man was still alive.

Softly approaching the badly injured stranger. I found him laid on his back with his dark brown locks on his forehead shielding me from seeing his eyes as I pointed the flashlight at him.

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