Rebirth: Love me Again

Chapter 54: Into the Smoke



[

BONUS

Chapter

for reaching 400PS. Thank you all! 🤍]

=== 🤍 ===

"My Lady—what are you doing?!"

Sophie reached for the door handle, but it wouldn't budge. I had locked the car with the press of a button, trapping her inside.

I barely spared her another look. She wasn't in any real danger—the car would automatically unlock in a minute if she tried again.

Still, I took a perverse satisfaction in her rattled expression, her face pressed against the window, her hands pawing uselessly at the door.

Let her feel powerless for a change.

Without so much as batting an eyelid, I waved down a cab from the street, the cold air nipping at my skin as I slid into the backseat.

Sophie's voice, muffled through the glass, grew fainter as the car sped away.

For a brief moment, I imagined the look of rage that would overtake her face once she realized she had no control over the situation.

That would teach her a lesson.

I leaned back in the cab, my mind already shifting gears. They thought they could keep me under surveillance, that they had some hold over me. They couldn't have been more wrong.

Today, I was meeting Michael, and nothing was going to stop me.

I had bigger things to handle than their petty schemes. Sullivan had stolen my money, but if they thought that would cripple me, they were mistaken.

I smiled to myself as the city blurred past the window.

The low hum of the cab's engine blended with the steady rhythm of the city outside as I leaned back against the seat, my thoughts miles away.

The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows on the streets of downtown. I glanced out the window, watching the world rush by.

Skyscrapers gave way to more modest buildings, storefronts blurred as the cab sped through narrow lanes, but something felt off.

At first, I dismissed the unease—a flicker of paranoia, nothing more. But then, as the scenery became more unfamiliar, my gut twisted in ways I couldn't ignore.

I frowned, peering more closely at the surroundings. We weren't headed toward the studio.

In fact, the buildings seemed older, more worn down, and the street signs didn't match the route I'd memorized in my head.

The vibrant energy of the city was quickly being replaced by a desolate, industrial feel. My pulse quickened, and I sat up straighter, a knot tightening in my chest.

"Hey," I called to the driver, my voice cutting through the silence. "This isn't the way to the location I gave you. Where are we going?"

The man behind the wheel didn't answer. His face, partially visible in the rearview mirror, was unreadable, cold. His jaw tightened, and I noticed something strange—he wasn't slowing down.

My heart began to pound in my chest, louder than the engine itself.

"Excuse me," I said, more forcefully this time, trying to mask the rising panic creeping up my spine. "Where the

hell

are you taking me?"

Still nothing.

My fingers curled tightly around the edge of the seat. Adrenaline shot through my veins, but before I could shout again, something shifted.

It was sudden—an acrid smell that hit my nose. I stiffened as thick smoke began to curl around my feet, slowly filling the backseat.

A wave of dread crashed over me.

No. No, this couldn't be happening. Not now.

I reached for the door handle instinctively, yanking at it with all my strength, but it didn't budge. My heart slammed against my ribs as the smoke began to thicken, the haze coiling around me like a deadly fog.

Panic roared in my chest, my pulse hammering wildly as I clawed at the window, trying to force it down.

Locked. All locked.

"Let me out!" I screamed, banging my fists against the glass, but my voice seemed to dissolve into the thickening smoke.

The driver's eyes met mine in the mirror, cold and emotionless. He knew. He knew exactly what was happening, and he didn't care.

The smoke continued to rise, swirling around me until it became difficult to see. My vision blurred, and my throat burned as the air thickened with the noxious fumes.

Shit

. I've been kidnapped.

The realization hit me like a freight train. This was no ordinary cab ride—this was a trap.

A carefully orchestrated one, and I'd walked right into it.

It wasn't the first time I had been kidnapped, far from it. But it had been years since I'd felt this kind of suffocating dread creeping up my spine.

The sensation of helplessness, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me—it was all too familiar, yet distant, like a ghost from a past I thought would never happen again.

Who was it this time? Another branch of the Rosette family, perhaps? Their ambition knew no bounds.

Or was it Sullivan's brother? His cousins, maybe?

There were too many to count, too many people with grudges, too many vultures circling. Relatives, enemies, old ghosts—whoever they were, they were coming for me, the fake heiress.

I fought to stay conscious, to think clearly, but the smoke was everywhere, seeping into my lungs, fogging my mind.

I pressed my sleeve over my mouth, trying to filter the air, but it was no use. Each breath was labored, my chest tightening with every passing second.

I tried to remember where I was, tried to piece together how this had happened, but the haze in my brain was making it impossible to think straight.

The streets outside were becoming indistinct shapes and shadows, the world spinning into a nightmarish blur. My vision swam, and the edges of my consciousness began to flicker.

"No . . ." I whispered, my voice barely audible now, my hands growing weaker as I pounded against the door once more. "Let me out . . ."

But my strength was fading. My limbs felt heavy, and the smoke had wrapped itself around my senses like a suffocating blanket.

My eyelids fluttered, my head swayed, and then, with one final breath, darkness swallowed me whole before I could open my bag to get my phone.

I slumped back against the seat, the world slipping away as consciousness abandoned me.

In the last fleeting moments before everything went black, one thought lingered in my mind:

This was no accident. This was planned. And whoever had orchestrated it—they were playing for keeps.

The last sound I heard was the click of the locks engaging and the steady hum of the engine as the cab drove on, deeper into the unknown.

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|| A/N ||

Next week goals will be different for PS since we have reach the 100 PS milestone.

Next week, Every 200 PS = one Bonus Chapter.

Thank you all for your love and support! 🤍


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