The sleek black sports car sliced through the night like a shadow, its engine humming with restrained power as Bianca navigated the winding backroads leading to the abandoned warehouse on the city's outskirts. Fifteen minutes had felt like an eternity, each mile amplifying Sarai's nervous fidgeting in the passenger seat. Her fingers drummed against the leather armrest, her sharp green eyes darting to the dashboard clock every few seconds.
"Relax, darling," Bianca murmured, her voice smooth as silk, one hand steady on the wheel while the other adjusted the rearview mirror. "We're almost there. Remember, you're the hero tonight. Channel that inner diva."
Sarai huffed, crossing her arms over her black hooded jacket. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one who has to fake-cry in front of a girl you hate and who's probably half-traumatized already."
