I woke up. My eyes were wet. Salty tears traced paths through the dried blood on my face.

The old Eleanor was gone. The one who wept for a man who didn't care. That Eleanor was truly dead.

I forced myself to heal. To move. To fight. I pushed my body, day after day. My resolve was a burning fire.

I used my family's network. The divorce was processed. Swiftly. Efficiently.

The papers arrived on the day I was discharged. A stark, white envelope. Inside, a single sheet. Final.

Cedric was waiting outside the hospital. He held a bouquet of red roses.

He saw me. The roses dropped from his hand. His jaw went slack. He stared.

Then Cassidy appeared. She held another bouquet. She whispered something to him. Her eyes were triumphant.

"He won't let you go, you know," she hissed, coming closer. Her voice was pure venom. "He told me. He loves my soup. He loves that I understand him."

My eyes narrowed. The flowers. Something was wrong.

She suddenly shrieked. "She pushed me! She's trying to hurt me again!" She threw her bouquet at me. Then she collapsed, clutching her head.

A small explosion. A flash of light. A stinging pain on my arm.

Cassidy screamed, rolling on the ground. She clutched her head. She wriggled like a worm.

Cedric was at her side instantly. "Cassidy! Are you okay?" He ignored me. My bleeding arm.

One of Cedric's teammates grabbed me. He pinned my arms behind my back. "Apologize, Eleanor! Look what you did!"

I smiled. A slow, chilling smile. My face was pale. My lips were stained with dried blood.

I twisted. My shirt rode up. It revealed a fresh, angry burn mark on my back. "Apologize for what?" My voice was cold. "For surviving?"

Cedric looked at my back. His eyes widened. He recoiled. A flicker of something, guilt maybe, crossed his face.

I kicked out. My foot connected squarely with Cassidy's chest. She flew backward. She tumbled down the hospital steps.

Cedric roared. "Eleanor! What have you done?!"

I pulled the wedding ring from my finger. I flung it. It arced through the air. It shattered a window.

The ring tumbled. Down. Down into the mud below. Its shine vanished. It was just a dull piece of metal. Lost.

He grabbed my arm. His grip was tight. "Eleanor, don't!"

I used his momentum. I spun. I executed a perfect over-the-shoulder throw. He crashed to the ground.

I didn't look back. I walked away. My strides were long. Deliberate.

I found his superior. General Thompson. "General. Eleanor Curry. I need to activate Project Falcon." My voice was calm. Controlled.

He looked at me with disdain. "Project Falcon? Who are you? Some housewife playing dress-up?"

I laughed. A short, sharp sound. "I am Falcon. And this isn't a request. It's an order."

"Project Falcon. Code Red, General." My voice was steady. It left no room for argument.

General Thompson stared at me. He was speechless. He studied my face, then my posture. He turned and left the office. He didn't say a word.

A man in a sharp black suit entered. He moved with silent efficiency. "Miss Curry," he murmured. "Garth sends his regards."

A sudden chill ran down my spine. My instincts flared. Something felt wrong.

Before I could react, a deafening explosion ripped through the building. The world went black.

I woke up in darkness. My head throbbed. My arms and legs were bound. I was in a confined space. Rubble pressed against me.

Cassidy's voice. Distorted. Filled with a manic glee. "She' s finally caught! The traitor! She leaked our mission! It's all her fault!"

"She kidnapped Benedict!" Her voice rose to a shriek. "She' s dangerous! The Curry heiress is missing because of her!"

Cedric's face appeared in the dim light. His eyes were cold. Filled with a terrifying emptiness. "She endangered Benedict. She will pay for this."

"We will use her body as a warning," he said. His voice was flat. Deadly.

He looked down at me. His eyes were devoid of emotion. "You chose this, Eleanor."

"Set the charges," he ordered. His voice was calm. Too calm. "Bury her. Let the rubble crush her."

His gaze was unsettling. "Her blood will be a sacrifice for Benedict. And for the Curry Group. They won't question it."

I thrashed against my bonds. A surge of adrenaline. I needed to get out. I needed to tell him. To tell them all.

I saw a sliver of light. A small opening. I strained. I pulled. I crawled. My fingers scraped against the rough concrete.

Almost free.

Then Cedric's finger. He pressed a button. A remote detonator.

A blinding flash. A deafening roar. The world exploded around me.

My parents. Their faces, smiling. My wedding day. The white dress. The vows.

"To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part."

My tears fell.

Cedric's comms device crackled. A frantic voice. "Sir! Urgent! The Curry Group has located the heiress! They're mobilizing!"

"They'll be on site in thirty minutes!" The voice was urgent. Desperate.

Cedric stared at his comm device. He was frozen. "The heiress? Here?" He whispered, disbelief lacing his voice.

The sky darkened. Not with clouds. With the shadows of massive aircraft. A fleet of sleek, black helicopters. They converged on our position.

Each helicopter bore a distinctive crest. A falcon, mid-flight, clutching a lightning bolt. The Curry Group emblem.

Cassidy gasped, pointing. "Look at that! Their private army! So impressive!" Her voice was tinged with envy.

Cedric' s eyes scanned the scene. He saw the precision. The power. He understood. The heiress was here. And something had gone wrong. Very wrong.

"Imagine being that powerful," Cassidy murmured, her eyes gleaming. "To command such loyalty. And a name like Curry. Sounds so strong. Not like... some people." She shot a glance at me. "Poor Eleanor, always so ordinary."

Cedric's gaze lingered on the crest. "Curry," he repeated. A strange echo in his mind.

His encrypted comms device vibrated. It was a direct line. He answered.

"Hopkins! What the hell is going on down there?!" General Thompson's voice roared. "The Curry Group is furious! They're accusing us of negligence! Of endangering their heir!"

Cedric stiffened. "Sir, I… I don't understand."

"You don't understand, Hopkins?! They're saying their heiress was in your sector! And she's been compromised! If anything happens to her, your career, your unit, your life, is over!"

Cassidy, emboldened, grabbed the comm device. "It's not his fault, sir! The heiress was reckless! She wandered into a dangerous zone!" She shrieked, "She tried to sabotage us!"

Cedric ripped the device from her hand. His face was thunderous. "Shut up, Cassidy!" His voice was low. Dangerous.

He turned back to the comms. "Sir, with all due respect, the Curry Group is known for its... extreme protectiveness. Their heiress is practically untouchable."

Cassidy's face drained of color. She realized her mistake. The Curry Group. Untouchable.

Cedric ended the call. He rubbed his temples. He was clearly rattled.

"We need to get to the command center. Now." He grabbed Cassidy's arm. "You're coming with me."

His mind, however, kept drifting back to me. Eleanor. My face, bruised. My body, hurt.

He needed to find me. He needed to make sense of this. This divorce. This accusation.

He would go to the hospital first. He needed to talk to me. He needed answers.

A knot tightened in his stomach. A sense of dread.

He pushed open the door to my hospital room. The room was empty. The bed was stripped.

A chill ran through him. The room was cold. Sterile. A dark stain marred the pristine white floor.

"Eleanor!" His voice was a strangled cry. He rushed in. "Eleanor! Where are you?"

Cassidy, standing behind him, noticed something. "Cedric, look!" She pointed to a small, glowing device on the bedside table. A voice recorder.

She pressed play.