Rising From The Ashes Of Betrayal

Chapter 5 5

Word Count: 689 | Released on: 14/01/2026

ike a swan dying in a ballet. She landed on her knees b

wide, wet eyes. "Don't fight with Kala. It's my fa

By taking the blame, she implied that Kala was upset, and theref

essman vanished; the protective patriarch retu

her. She has more grace in her little f

ormance. It was nause

voice cut through the

burying her face

careless,'" Kala quot

ainst the fabri

p me with the logic here. If you broke the vase because you were carele

r eyes darted left and ri

ed, leaning forward in the chair, "then I didn't push you. If

rls, her brow furrowed. The rapid

t you, Kala!" Doloris snappe

t?" Kala asked. "Fro

y was kneeling. She looked down at her siste

even if you broke it yourself, the responsibility b

ules shouted. "She's crying!

s," Kala said without looking

bringing her face

t only Karly and Arthur could hear. "And your lies are sloppy.

r in her eyes was real now. She had never seen thi

ala's argument was sound. Karly's story was fluid. But admitting that m

ly. "It's a vase. I'll buy another one. I

ting it go? Usually, Kala would be groun

She had won. It wasn't a total victo

Karly never fought w

oked at Archer. She gave a t

reached into his pocket

with renewed confidence. "The vase was an

phone screen

" Arthur ask

y just posted an exclusive. 'Kensington Empire

the phone. His

a finger at Kala. "The documents that are only on the computer in your

Chapter End

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Rising From The Ashes Of Betrayal

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“I spent my whole life trying to fit into the "Kensington aesthetic," dyeing my hair blonde and playing dumb just to earn a crumb of my father's approval. But when the manor went up in flames, I realized I was never a daughter to them-I was just an inconvenience. I lay pinned under a heavy oak beam, the smell of copper and burnt sugar filling my lungs. My father, Arthur, stood in the doorway with my brothers, looking like a phalanx of saviors, but their eyes weren't on me. They rushed past my outstretched, bloody hand to save my sister, Karly, who was huddled in a corner without a scratch on her. My brother Archer scooped her up like spun glass, stepping over my crushed leg without a second glance. Just before they crossed the threshold, Karly looked back at me and smiled-a small, victorious, terrifying smile. My father didn't offer help; he just shouted that I was an arsonist and slammed the door, sentencing me to burn alive in my own bedroom. As the crystal chandelier melted and crashed toward me, I didn't feel fear anymore. I felt a guttural, distilled hate for the family that left me to die because of a lie. I had spent my life begging for scraps at a table that was never meant for me, and I died realizing they never loved me at all. "If I come back," I promised into the void, "I will burn you all down." I gasped for air and woke up in my bed, the smell of lavender replacing the smoke. It was September 14th, five years before the fire, the exact week I had started ruining myself to please them. I looked in the mirror, scrubbed off the pathetic makeup mask, and realized the old, desperate Kala was dead. If I was going to burn, I'd make sure they were the ones who felt the heat first. "Queen is back online," I whispered.”