Reborn From Fire: The Ex-wife's Revenge

The pain tore through Heidi's abdomen like a serrated blade.

She gripped the sterile white hospital bedsheets. Her knuckles turned a translucent white. Her fingernails bit so hard into her own palms that the skin broke, but the physical sting was nothing compared to the violent contractions ripping her body apart.

The heart monitor next to the bed emitted a frantic, high-pitched beeping. Her heart rate was spiking into the red zone.

Heidi forced her eyes open. Her vision blurred with cold sweat. She reached a trembling hand toward Nurse Laura, who stood completely still at the foot of the bed.

"Please," Heidi gasped, her throat raw. "The epidural. I need it."

Laura took a slow step back. Her face was a mask of cold indifference.

"Dr. Mercer hasn't given the order, Mrs. Page."

Another contraction hit. Heidi curled into a tight ball, a choked scream escaping her cracked lips. Her stomach muscles seized violently. She couldn't breathe. The air in the VIP delivery room felt thick, smelling of bleach and metallic blood.

Then, the heavy oak door pushed open.

The harsh, fluorescent light from the hallway spilled into the dim room.

Brigette walked in.

She wasn't wearing scrubs. She was wearing a custom Vera Wang wedding dress. The heavy silk and intricate lace dragged across the sterile linoleum floor, making a soft, sickening rustle. She stepped forward in five-inch stilettos, the sound echoing like gunshots in the quiet room.

Heidi's blurry eyes locked onto the fabric. Her breath hitched.

It was her design. The exact dress she had spent six months sketching in secret, hiding the pages because Christian always dismissed her art as the foolish doodles of a gold digger. She had poured her soul into that design for her own vow renewal, the one she never got to wear.

Brigette stopped beside the bed. She looked down at Heidi's sweat-drenched, agonizing form. A slow, mocking smirk twisted her red lips. She ran a perfectly manicured hand over the lace bodice.

"Why..." Heidi choked out, her chest heaving. "Why are you wearing that?"

Brigette reached out. Her cold fingers pinched Heidi's pale chin, forcing her to look up.

"Christian sent it to me this morning," Brigette whispered, her voice dripping with fake pity. "An engagement gift. He wanted to make sure it fit before the funeral."

Heidi's stomach dropped to the floor. A wave of nausea hit her so hard she gagged. The physical pain of labor was instantly swallowed by a massive, suffocating despair. Her lungs refused to take in oxygen.

The door swung open again. Dr. Helen Mercer walked in.

The doctor didn't even glance at Brigette in the wedding dress. She walked straight to the monitors.

"Fetal heart rate is dropping dangerously low," Dr. Mercer announced, her voice entirely devoid of emotion. "We have to make a decision now."

Brigette reached into her limited-edition Birkin bag. She pulled out her phone. The screen was already lit up with an active call. She pressed the speaker button and held it close to Heidi's face.

"Christian?" Brigette said sweetly.

"Report."

The single word filled the room. It was Christian Page's signature baritone voice. Ice-cold. Monotone. Completely empty of any warmth.

Tears spilled hot and fast down Heidi's cheeks. She thrashed against the bed.

"Christian!" Heidi screamed, her voice tearing her vocal cords. "Christian, please! Help me!"

Silence hung on the line for exactly one second.

"Doctor," Christian's voice cut through the speaker, ignoring Heidi entirely. "What is the situation?"

Dr. Mercer leaned toward the phone. "If we force a natural delivery now, the mother's body will give out. We can only guarantee the survival of either the mother or the children."

Heidi stopped breathing. Her chest froze. She stared at the glowing screen of the phone, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs. She waited for the man who had promised to love her forever to save her.

"Prioritize the Page heirs," Christian ordered. He didn't hesitate. "Let her die."

The words sliced through Heidi's chest, severing the last string of hope she had left. Her body went entirely numb. The man she loved had just signed her death warrant over the phone.

Brigette smiled brightly. She ended the call. She shoved the phone screen into Heidi's face, forcing her to look at the call log. Christian Page. 02:45.

A raw, guttural scream ripped from Heidi's throat. Pure, blinding hatred flooded her veins. She lunged forward, her bloody fingers clawing desperately at the lace of Brigette's dress. She wanted to rip it to shreds.

Nurse Laura slammed Heidi's shoulders back down onto the mattress. She strapped the heavy leather restraints over Heidi's wrists.

"Prepare the induction drugs," Dr. Mercer said coldly.

Heidi thrashed, the leather cutting deep into her skin. She watched as Laura pushed a syringe into her IV line.

Ice-cold liquid shot up Heidi's arm. Her vision immediately began to tunnel. The edges of the room turned black.

She stared at Brigette's laughing face. She burned the texture of that lace into her retinas.

If I survive this night, Heidi swore to herself in the dark, I will make the Page family bleed. I will tear your lives apart piece by piece.

The heart monitor let out a single, piercing, continuous beep.

Heidi's eyes rolled back. The flatline echoed in the room as her world went completely black.