---- Chapter 4 Alexandra Smith POV: A strangled sob tore through my chest, a sound of pure animal agony. | crumpled to the floor, the phone clutched in my hand, the words on the screen burning into my retinas. Hate, regret, and a fury so profound it felt like it could incinerate my very soul churned within me. They had killed my baby. My husband, the man | loved, had conspired to murder our child to steal my work. The pain was a physical entity, a monstrous weight crushing my ribs, squeezing the air from my lungs. But beneath the suffocating grief, something else was stirring. A cold, hard resolve was crystallizing in the wreckage of my heart. Tears streamed down my face, but my mind was terrifyingly clear. | would not break. | would not be discarded. | would make them pay. | would burn their empire to the ground and dance on the ashes. The thought of Carla and Edward with their son, Theo, while my own child lay in a cold, sterile morgue, was a torment beyond words. Every shared laugh, every tender touch, every whispered promise from Edward was now tainted, revealed as a calculated move in a sick, twisted game. ---- | was a fool. A blind, trusting fool. Fear coiled in my gut. | was alone, injured, and trapped in enemy territory. | needed help. | needed power. With trembling fingers, | scrolled to the one contact | had sworn never to use again. Gabriel Oliver. My thumb hovered over the call button. Pride warred with desperation. He had warned me about Edward, subtly at first, then more directly. He' d seen the weakness, the desperation lurking behind Edward' s charm. | hadn't listened. Now, survival was more important than pride. | pressed the button. The phone rang, each ring echoing the frantic beat of my heart. Finally, he answered. "Alexandra?" His voice was older than | remembered, laced with a weary surprise. "Gabriel," | choked out, the name a painful admission of my own failure. "| was wrong. You were right." There was a long pause on the other end of the line. "I've been waiting for this call for three years," he said, his voice devoid of any 'I told you so,' filled only with a deep, resonating sadness. "l need your help," | whispered. "I'll give you anything. My shares in Smith Innovations, board seats, anything. Just get ---- me out of here and help me destroy them." "You don't need to give me anything, my dear," he said softly. "You just need to come home. Where are you?" "Seattle. At a corporate apartment. But | need three days. | need to handle something first." | took a deep, shuddering breath. "And | need you to find out something for me. Edward always believed my family was responsible for his mother's death years ago. He was obsessed with it. | need to know why." Another pause, this one heavier than the last. "Be careful, Alexandra," Gabriel warned, his voice grave. "The Cardenas family... their roots run deeper and darker than you know. Digging into that might uncover more than you're prepared for." His words sent a chill down my spine, but my course was set. "| have to know," | insisted. After hanging up, | felt a sliver of strength return. | had an ally. | wasn't alone anymore. My next call was to my lawyer. "l want to file for divorce," | said, my voice cold and steady. "Draw up the papers. | want everything. His shares in Cardenas Corp, half his personal assets, everything. Have them delivered to me tomorrow." That night, when Edward came back to the apartment, he didn't touch me. He slept on the couch, a clear and calculated distance between us. The man who had feigned devastation just days ago now looked at me with an indifference that was more chilling than any anger. ---- The next morning, he was about to leave for a meeting when he paused at the door. He turned and gave me a long, unreadable look, then walked over and wrapped his arms around me in a stiff, awkward hug. "Take care of yourself, Alex," he murmured, his voice flat. The gesture was so empty, so utterly devoid of warmth, that a bitter laugh escaped my lips. | wondered what it felt like for him, this constant performance. Did he ever feel a pang of guilt? Or was his heart as hollow as his words? As he held me, | pulled back slightly and looked him straight in the eye. "Edward," | asked, my voice barely a whisper, "did you ever love me at all?" He didn't answer. He simply stared at me for a moment, his expression blank, before turning and walking out the door, leaving the question to hang in the silent, sterile air between us. | didn't sleep that night. | sat by the window, watching the city lights blur through my unshed tears, the weight of his unspoken answer crushing me. The next day, | returned to our real home to pack my things. As | walked through the door, my heart stopped. Carla was there, lounging on my white silk sofa as if she owned the place. She was wearing one of my robes. Her perfectly manicured hand rested protectively on her slightly ---- rounded stomach. She was pregnant. And standing beside her, a look of cold disapproval on her face, was Edward's mother, Dianne Cardenas. The matriarch. The mastermind. "Well, well," Dianne said, her voice like ice chips. "Look what the cat dragged in." She took a step towards me, her eyes filled with a venomous hatred. "You have some nerve showing your face here." Before | could react, she slapped me. The force of it snapped my head back, the sharp sting echoing in the cavernous silence of the room. Title: A Princess? No! I'm the Female General! In "A Princess? No! I'm the Female General!" by CrushReel, Adela Taylor, a noble family's daughter, disguises herself as her brother to secure their Duke title by joining the army. Despite facing obstacles, she achieves remarkable success. 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