Queen of Ashes

The champagne flute trembles in my hand as I scan the glittering ballroom. Diamonds catch the light, sequins shimmer, and forced laughter bounces off the marble pillars. This is my world—or at least, it was supposed to be.

“Smile, darling,” Ethan whispers, pressing his hand into the small of my back. “You look like you’re at a funeral, not a charity gala.”

I force a smile, the one I’ve perfected over years of standing by Ethan’s side. “Sorry, just a bit tired. The merger’s been—”

“Mia, please. Not tonight.” His voice carries that edge of irritation I know too well. “This is about having fun, making connections. Leave work at the office.”

I nod, biting back the retort on the tip of my tongue. For Ethan Blackwood, CEO of Blackwood Industries and my fiancé of two years, there’s no such thing as leaving work at the office. Every handshake, every laugh, every seemingly casual conversation is part of a calculated move in the great game of corporate chess.

And I’m his queen—or at least, I thought I was.

“Ethan! There you are.” A booming voice cuts through the chatter, and I turn to see Gerald Hoffman, Ethan’s mentor and a board member, approaching. “And the lovely Mia, of course. You’re positively glowing, my dear. How are the wedding plans coming along?”

I open my mouth to respond, but Ethan speaks first. “Actually, Gerald, there’s been a change of plans. But we’ll discuss that later. How’s that portfolio I sent over?”

My smile freezes as Gerald’s eyebrows shoot up. A change of plans? This is the first I’m hearing of it. I take a large sip of champagne, grateful for the burn as it slides down my throat.

“Mia!” Sophia’s voice—my best friend since college—is a welcome distraction. She air-kisses my cheeks, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You have to come see what Adriana is wearing. It’s a crime against fashion.”

I let myself be pulled away, casting a glance back at Ethan. He’s already deep in conversation with Gerald, gesticulating as he outlines his latest brilliant strategy.

Sophia links her arm through mine as we weave through the crowd. “Okay, spill. What’s with the death grip on that champagne flute? Trouble in paradise?”

I force a laugh. “Just tired. You know how it is, burning the candle at both ends.”

She gives me a look that says she’s not buying it, but before she can press further, a hush falls over the room. All eyes turn to the small stage where the charity’s director is tapping a microphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention, please. First, I want to thank you all for your generosity tonight. Thanks to you, we’ve raised over five million dollars for children’s education in underprivileged communities.”

Applause ripples through the crowd. I clap along, my mind still churning over Ethan’s cryptic comment.

“And now, I’d like to invite Ethan Blackwood to say a few words. Ethan, as our biggest donor of the night, the floor is yours.”

My stomach clenches as Ethan takes the stage, his megawatt smile dazzling the crowd. He looks every inch the powerful CEO in his tailored tuxedo, confident and commanding.

“Thank you, Margaret. It’s an honor to support such a worthy cause.” His eyes scan the room, and for a moment, they lock with mine. There’s something in his gaze that sends a chill down my spine. “While I have everyone’s attention, I’d like to make an announcement.”

The room leans in, eager for whatever Ethan Blackwood is about to share. I find myself holding my breath, that nagging sense of unease growing stronger.

“As many of you know, I’ve been engaged to the lovely Mia Chen for the past two years.” All eyes turn to me, and I feel my cheeks heat under their scrutiny. “Mia has been a wonderful partner, both personally and professionally. However...”

The world seems to slow down, sounds becoming muffled as if I’m underwater. I watch Ethan’s lips move, but it takes a moment for the words to hit me.

“We’ve decided to go our separate ways. Sometimes, what looks good on paper doesn’t translate to real life. I’m sure you’ll all join me in wishing Mia the best in her future endeavors.”

The room erupts in murmurs. I feel Sophia’s hand tighten on my arm, hear her whispered “What the fuck?” But I’m frozen, rooted to the spot as the full impact of Ethan’s words crashes over me.

He’s breaking up with me. Here. Now. In front of everyone.

Ethan continues speaking, something about exciting new directions for Blackwood Industries, but the words wash over me without registering. All I can focus on are the pitying looks, the barely concealed glee of rivals who’ve been waiting for me to fall.

“Mia?” Sophia’s voice seems to come from far away. “Mia, let’s get out of here.”

I shake my head, forcing a smile that feels like it might shatter. “No,” I hear myself say. “I’m not running away.”

As if in a dream, I move through the crowd toward the stage. Ethan’s just finishing up his speech, all charm and magnetism. Our eyes meet as he steps down, and for a moment, I see a flicker of something—regret? Doubt? But it’s gone in an instant, replaced by that polished mask.

“Mia,” he says, loud enough for those nearby to hear. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way, but I thought it best to rip off the band-aid, so to speak.”

I want to scream. I want to slap him. I want to demand answers. Instead, I hear myself say, “Of course, Ethan. I understand completely.”

His relief is obvious. “I knew you would. You’ve always been so... reasonable.” He leans in, lips brushing my cheek in a parody of affection. “I’ll have HR contact you about the termination of your contract. I’m sure you understand, it would be awkward to continue working together.”

And just like that, he’s gone, swallowed up by a sea of sycophants eager to align themselves with the night’s biggest story.

I stand there, champagne flute still in hand, as the room spins around me. My entire life—my relationship, my career, my future—all gone in the space of a few minutes.

“Come on,” Sophia says gently, appearing at my elbow. “Let’s get you home.”

The drive back to my apartment—Ethan’s apartment, I realize with a jolt—passes in a blur. Sophia’s voice washes over me, alternating between comforting murmurs and creative curses directed at Ethan. I nod in the right places, but my mind is elsewhere.

As we pull up to the building, I turn to Sophia. “I need to go to the office.”

She frowns. “Mia, it’s nearly midnight. Whatever it is can wait until—”

“No,” I cut her off, my voice firmer than I feel. “It can’t. I need to... I need to get some things.”

Sophia studies me for a long moment before nodding. “Okay. Do you want me to come with you?”

I shake my head. “No, I’ll be fine. I just need a moment alone.”

As I step out of the car, Sophia calls after me. “Mia? He’s an asshole. And he’s going to regret this. You’re worth ten of him.”

I manage a weak smile before turning away. If only she knew the half of it.

The Blackwood Industries building looms before me, all glass and steel reaching into the night sky. I swipe my keycard, praying it still works. To my relief, the light flashes green.

The elevator ride to the executive floor feels endless. As the doors slide open, I’m struck by how quiet it is. My heels click against the marble floor as I make my way to my office—soon to be my former office.

I pause at the door, my hand on the knob. This is it. The end of everything I’ve worked for. Everything I thought I wanted.

Taking a deep breath, I push the door open.

And freeze.

My office has been ransacked. Drawers hang open, papers litter the floor. And there, spray-painted across my wall in angry red letters:

“YOU’LL BURN FOR THIS, CHEN.”

As I stare at the message, my phone buzzes with a text from an unknown number:

“Check behind the painting. This is your only chance. Run.”

Heart pounding, I approach the large abstract painting on my wall. With trembling hands, I lift it away.

There, tucked into a hidden safe I never knew existed, is a flash drive.

And suddenly, I realize—this isn’t the end.

It’s only the beginning.

The key in my trembling hand feels impossibly heavy as I unlock the door to my childhood home. The creak of the hinges echoes through the empty hallway, matching the hollow feeling in my chest. I step inside, and my designer heels—remnants of a life that feels like a distant dream—click-clack against the worn hardwood floor.

"I'm home," I whisper, my voice cracking. But no one answers. Of course not. Mom and Dad are long gone, and now... now I have no one.

I drag my suitcase up the stairs, each step a mountain to climb. When I reach my old bedroom, I collapse onto the bed, still made up with the same floral comforter from my teenage years. The scent of lavender and dust tickles my nose, and I bury my face in the pillow, finally letting the tears flow freely.

How did it all go so wrong? Just yesterday, I was Mia Chen, rising star at Blackwood Industries and fiancée to one of the most powerful men in the country. Now I'm nothing. Nobody. A discarded piece of arm candy, tossed aside like yesterday's newspaper.

Ethan's words echo in my mind, cruel and cutting: "Did you really think someone like you could ever truly belong in my world, Mia? You were a pleasant diversion, I'll give you that. But it's time for me to move on to bigger and better things."

The memory of his smirk, the laughter of the crowd, the pitying glances—it all comes rushing back. I curl into a ball, my body wracked with sobs. How could I have been so blind? So naive?

Hours pass. The light outside fades, casting long shadows across my room. I should eat something, but the mere thought of food turns my stomach. Instead, I force myself to unpack, going through the motions like a robot.

As I hang up the last of my dresses—what I used to call my 'power suits'—something falls from the pocket. A small, innocuous envelope flutters to the floor. Frowning, I pick it up. It's unmarked, the paper expensive and heavy in my hands.

With shaking fingers, I tear it open. Inside is a single sheet of paper, bearing just one line of elegant script:

"The phoenix rises from the ashes, but first, it must burn."

I stare at the words, my mind racing. What does this mean? Who could have slipped this into my pocket? A chill runs down my spine as I realize it must have happened after Ethan's public humiliation, when I was too shell-shocked to notice anything.

A loud knock at the front door startles me out of my thoughts. I freeze, heart pounding. Who could be here? No one knows I've come back to this place. Unless...

Unless Ethan has sent someone to finish the job, to make sure I stay down and out.

I creep down the stairs, my bare feet silent on the old wood. Another knock, more insistent this time. I peer through the peephole, but all I can see is a dark figure, backlit by the porch light.

"Ms. Chen?" a muffled voice calls out. "I have a delivery for you."

A delivery? But how? I haven't told a soul where I am.

Against my better judgment, I open the door a crack, chain still in place. "Yes?" I manage, hating how small and scared my voice sounds.

The man—a courier, by the looks of his uniform—holds out a large manila envelope. "Special delivery for Mia Chen. I need your signature."

Hesitantly, I undo the chain and scribble my name on his electronic pad. He hands me the envelope with a smile and a nod, then turns and walks back to his waiting van.

I close the door, leaning against it as I examine the package. It's heavy, whatever's inside shifting slightly as I turn it over in my hands. There's no return address, just my name and this address printed in crisp, professional lettering.

Back in my room, I sit cross-legged on the bed, the envelope before me like a ticking time bomb. Part of me wants to throw it away unopened. Haven't I had enough shocks for one day? But curiosity wins out, as it always does.

I take a deep breath and tear it open.

Photographs spill out onto the bedspread, along with a thick stack of documents. My hands shake as I pick up the first photo. It shows Ethan, my ex-fiancé, in what looks like a dimly lit warehouse. He's shaking hands with a man whose face I don't recognize, but whose tattoos scream 'organized crime.' The next photo shows a briefcase changing hands, stacks of cash visible inside.

My breath catches in my throat. What is this? What am I looking at?

I flip through the documents, my eyes widening with each page. Financial records, emails, transcripts of phone calls—all pointing to a massive web of corruption and illegal activities, with Ethan Blackwood at the center of it all.

This... this is dynamite. With this information, I could destroy Ethan. Bring down his entire empire.

But why? Why would someone send this to me? And who?

As if in answer, my phone pings with a text from an unknown number. My heart racing, I read the message:

"Now you have a choice, Ms. Chen. Fade away into obscurity, or rise from the ashes and take back what's yours. If you're ready to fight, meet me tomorrow at noon. The Obsidian Coffee Shop on 5th and Main. Come alone."

I stare at the phone, then at the scattered evidence of Ethan's crimes. My mind whirls with possibilities, with fear, with a slow-burning anger that's been simmering since that horrible moment at the gala.

Ethan's voice echoes in my head again: "Did you really think someone like you could ever truly belong in my world, Mia?"

I clench my fists, a new resolve hardening in my chest. Maybe it's time I stopped trying to belong in his world.

Maybe it's time I built my own.

I get up and walk to the mirror hanging on my closet door. The woman who stares back at me looks broken, defeated. Dark circles under puffy eyes, hair a mess, designer clothes rumpled and stained with tears.

"No more," I whisper to my reflection. "No more playing by their rules."

I grab a pair of scissors from my old desk drawer. With trembling hands, I gather my long, sleek hair—the hair Ethan always said made me look 'elegant' and 'appropriate'—and begin to cut.

Snip. Snip. Snip.

Dark locks fall to the floor around my feet. With each cut, I feel a weight lifting. By the time I'm done, my hair barely brushes my shoulders. I look wild, unkempt, nothing like the polished corporate princess I was just days ago.

I look free.

As I sweep up the discarded hair, my eyes fall on the mysterious note again. "The phoenix rises from the ashes, but first, it must burn."

Well, I've burned, alright. Now it's time to rise.

I set my alarm for early morning. I have a coffee shop to visit, and a war to prepare for.

Just as I'm about to turn off the light, my phone pings again. Another message from the unknown number:

"One last thing, Ms. Chen. Trust no one. Not even me."

I stare at the screen, a chill running down my spine. What have I gotten myself into?

And more importantly... am I ready for what comes next?