---- Chapter 8 Alexandra Smith POV: "What did you do?" Edward' s roar was inhuman, a sound torn from the depths of his soul. "Edward, it wasn't-" | started, but the words died in my throat. He crossed the room in two strides. He didn't slap me. He didn't punch me. He kicked me, a brutal, full-force blow to my stomach that sent me flying backwards. | landed hard, my head cracking against the floor. The world exploded into a starburst of white-hot pain. The agony from my abdomen, where my own child had been ripped away, flared with an intensity that stole my breath. He didn't even spare me a second glance. He was already on the floor, gathering a sobbing Carla into his arms. "It's okay, baby, I'm here," he murmured, his voice thick with a tenderness he hadn't shown me in years. "I've got you." He looked over his shoulder at me, his eyes blazing with a promise of retribution. "If anything happens to her or this baby, | will kill you, Alexandra. | swear to God, | will kill you." | tried to push myself up, tried to call for help, but my body wouldn't respond. A warm, sticky wetness was spreading across the back of my dress. | reached a trembling hand to ---- my wound, my fingers coming away stained with blood. The stitches from my surgery had torn open. Somehow, | managed to crawl out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and out the front door. | hailed a taxi, the driver' s eyes wide with alarm at the sight of me, and gasped out the name of the nearest hospital. In the emergency room, the chaos was a surreal symphony. Nurses shouted, machines beeped, and through the haze of pain, | heard Edward's frantic voice from another cubicle. "Doctor! You have to help her! She's pregnant!" The irony was a bitter, metallic taste in my mouth. A nurse was trying to get an IV into my arm. "What happened to your stitches, honey?" she asked gently. "My husband," | whispered, the words barely audible. "He kicked me." Before she could respond, Dianne Cardenas appeared at the curtain, her face a mask of malevolent fury. "You lying bitch!" she shrieked, lunging at me and grabbing a fistful of my hair. "You try to murder my grandchild, and now you're trying to blame my son?" The nurse tried to intervene, but Dianne shoved her aside. "She's faking it! There's nothing wrong with her!" Just then, Edward rushed over, a doctor trailing behind him. "Dr. Evans, this is Carla Patterson. She's pregnant and she's ---- bleeding. You need to help her now," he commanded, his voice shaking with urgency. He pointed a trembling finger at the doctor. "If anything happens to her, I'll see to it that you never practice medicine in this state again." The doctor, intimidated, immediately began barking orders. "Prep her for surgery! We've got a placental abruption." Carla was wheeled away, leaving me in the chaotic wake of her drama. Edward turned to the nurse who was still trying to help me. "Don't you touch her," he snarled. "She doesn't deserve medical care. Let her bleed." The nurse looked from Edward's furious face to my pale, pain -wracked one. With a look of pity and fear, she placed a roll of gauze and some medical tape on the gurney beside me. "This is all | can do," she whispered, before scurrying away. | lay there, alone and bleeding, a castaway in the storm of their making. And in that moment, | knew. There would be no peaceful divorce. There would be no negotiation. This was war. My hands shook as | pressed the gauze to my wound, the pain making my vision swim. This was for my baby. This was for my mother. This was for me. Suddenly, Edward was there again, his face a thundercloud. He ripped the IV from my arm and grabbed me, hauling me off the gurney. ---- "You're not getting off that easy," he hissed, his breath hot and foul against my cheek. He dragged me down the hallway, my bare feet stumbling to keep up. "Where are you taking me?" | cried, my voice hoarse with pain and fear. "Carla needs a blood transfusion," he said, his voice chillingly calm. "Her blood type is rare. So is yours. What a coincidence." He shoved me through a set of double doors and into a cold, brightly lit operating room. He threw me onto a spare surgical table, my head hitting the metal with a sickening crack. The world began to fade to black. 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. However, upon her triumphant return, her brother betrays her, setting off a chain of events that will test her resolve and reveal hidden truths. 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