Bound By A Broken Night novel Chapter 6

"Hahaha…”

A broken chuckle rumbled up from my chest as I stared at the tiny object beside me. The sound didn’t match what I felt—too sharp, too hollow—but it escaped anyway, as if my body no longer knew how else to respond.

“I can’t believe this…” I whispered, dragging my palm slowly down my face.

I laughed again, softer this time, even as tears spilled from my brimming eyes, carving hot, unrelenting paths down my cheeks. Life had a cruel way of never asking if you were ready before pressing its full weight onto your shoulders.

And now, somehow, it expected me to carry all of it.

“Cassidy…” I murmured to myself, my fingers threading through my hair as I struggled to breathe through the tightness in my chest—caught between disbelief, fear, and the fragile beginning of something I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to face.

“I need to eat.”

The words came out shaky but firm. I staggered to my feet, my body protesting as I rummaged through my pocket for money.

“I can’t stay hungry like this,” I whispered, one hand instinctively moving to my stomach. “I can’t harm you.”

The thought grounded me more than anything else had.

“You only have me,” I murmured as I made my way toward the door, forcing one unsteady step after another. “We only have each other now.”

My life was a mess—tangled, broken, barely holding together—but I clung to the one thing that mattered.

“I’ll take care of you,” I promised, breathing deeply with every step until I reached a small, modest cafeteria nearby.

I ordered a simple, healthy meal and a fresh drink, as if choosing nourishment was my first quiet act of defiance—proof that even in chaos, I could still choose to begin again.

"I chewed my food slowly, carefully, my thoughts tangled as I tried to figure out what I should do next. I couldn’t continue living like this—adrift, uncertain, barely surviving from one day to the next.

When I finished eating, I washed everything down with my drink, my hand unconsciously resting against my stomach, moving in gentle, absent strokes.

Deep down, I had already known. The constant dizziness. The unusual exhaustion that clung to me these past few weeks. None of it had been random.

I wasn’t alone anymore.

Little Ashton Pierce was growing inside me.

As the realization fully settled, something unexpected bloomed in my chest—a fragile, trembling excitement that coexisted painfully with fear. Against all odds, there was life here. Mine to protect.

“CEO Ashton Pierce and Knowles heiress Mirriam Knowles were spotted at the airport earlier today, departing for their well-deserved vacation.”

The reporter’s voice pulled my attention to the television. I looked up just in time to see their photo flash across the screen.

As expected, there they were.

Mirriam wore a radiant, practiced smile as she posed effortlessly for the cameras. Ashton stood beside her in dark sunglasses, his posture calm and commanding. He wasn’t smiling—his eyes hidden, his expression unreadable—but together, they looked flawless.

A perfect couple.

A perfect story.

The kind I had almost destroyed.

I stared at Mirriam’s smiling face on the screen, and no matter how hard I tried, envy crept in like a slow, bitter poison.

We shared the same blood—yet she was always the favored one. The chosen one.

I had never been greedy. I never wanted to steal anything that wasn’t mine. Even now, I refused to. But then why did Mirriam take everything from me? Not just opportunities or praise—but even the smallest chance to be acknowledged by our father.

She left me with nothing.

Why couldn’t she share? We were sisters. And yet she treated me like one of the maids—no, worse. Like an invisible servant. An insignificant slave meant only to support her rise while I stayed buried beneath her shadow.

I knew I shouldn’t covet what wasn’t mine. But after everything I’d endured, anger became my only refuge.

I felt betrayed. Used. Discarded like a hot potato once I was no longer convenient. Even my own father cast me aside without hesitation, declared me dead as if I had never existed.

Had I not served them all beyond my limits? Had I not given more than I ever had to give?

They looked so happy—radiant, untouchable—while I sat here alone. Abandoned. Disowned.

And now there was an unborn life depending on me.

The thought tightened my chest painfully. I didn’t even know if I could raise a child properly on my own—but I knew one thing with absolute certainty.

I would never let my child grow up feeling as unwanted as I had.

“It looks like we’re really on our own, my tiny pea,” I murmured, lowering my gaze to myself.

“They look perfect,” I whispered, my hand tightening slightly over my stomach. “And we won’t ruin what they have, my little one.”

I swallowed hard.

“We’ll be fine,” I told myself, gently patting my still-flat stomach. “Just the two of us.”

I smiled—but the lump rising in my throat burned too fiercely to ignore.

“I won’t steal someone else’s man,” I said, shaking my head as if to seal the promise. I refused to sink that low.

But my fingers curled protectively over my abdomen as resolve slowly replaced despair.

“Still,” I whispered, tears blurring my vision once more, “I will reclaim what should have been mine too.”

My name.

My dignity.

My truth.

“I’ll clear my name,” I vowed, my smile brittle but determined, never lifting my hand from the new heartbeat growing inside me. “I’ll take back my dignity.”

I drew in a deep breath, steadying myself.

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