She watched as the shipment was cautiously moved into the warehouse. A thin smile lit her face. Inhaling slowly, she turned toward the door where her butler waited.
"*How many are remaining?*" she asked.
He muttered a low, "Fifty."
Anger surged. _Why were they moving at a snail's pace?_ The question sounded unclear to her ear. She inhaled again, turning to meet their gaze.
"*How many of you are coming to the factory tomorrow?*"
"Joseph will arrange the men," the butler surrendered, signaling two guards to shift the last batch for inspection. She needed flawless quality to lure rich customers.
Her phone rang as she moved to the next crate.
"Ma'am Kayle, the endorsers are waiting impatiently for you," Kiara cooed.
Selena tasted the rancid tang of fury beneath Kiara's tone.
"*If they can't wait, they should leave,*" Selena snapped, swallowing the fierce temper threatening to surface. She couldn't unleash her pent‑up fury on Kiara.
Turning to her butler, she commanded, "*Ensure strict adherence to how the supplies should be mobilized. And I don't want any naughty police snooping around.*"
She moved toward the limousine, savoring the warehouse scene. A nudge to the driver, and the sleek black car glided out. Selena stared at her call log, hoping a number would appear. One did—an unfamiliar, unwelcome digit.
She stepped onto the porch of the company. The limo parked, the driver rushed to open the door. She inhaled the rich air with sadistic pleasure, watching heads turn in reverent admonishment. Her perfectly built silhouette was a weapon; her revenge would taste sweeter.
She moved slowly toward the front door. It opened, revealing the luxurious lobby where staff, draped in expensive fabrics, stood. _This was power._
_You really are something, death. How ironic that a dead woman still enjoys luxury._ The thought hardened her stoic face, amplifying the buried fright in every staff member's marrow.
Kiara sprinted down the stairs, hair a chaotic carnival, clutching scattered files that slipped to her neck. She fell to her knees, mumbling a sorry. Selena felt a strange thrill—she had never seen what it looked like to raise her voice.
"What insolence! An unpresentable staff before me. Do you think this place is a carnival parade?" Selena's words dripped fury. Kiara's face paled; the entire staff stared, horrified by the sudden outburst.
Turning to the others, Selena hissed in an absurd tone, "if you need mass deployment this afternoon, keep gawking aimlessly."
Kiara stood agape, unable to close her gaping surprise. "I'm so sorry, ma'am," she apologized.
Selena brushed it off, sashayed upstairs, and glanced back at the mystified Kiara. "You coming or what?" she taunted, flashing an obscene smile.
Kiara felt her heart thrace a rapid beat; her boss had just shifted emotions in seconds
Selena slipped through the double‑glass doors, the boardroom lights flickering to a sterile white. The hum of the air‑conditioner was the only sound before murmurs died. Twelve board members stared, eyes hardened like steel behind polished masks.
"Ms. Kayle," the chairman began, voice trembling just enough to betray unease, "we need an explanation for the missing shipment. The numbers don't add up."
Selena moved to the head of the table, heels clicking a measured rhythm. She placed a sleek black tablet on the glossy surface; a swipe illuminated a cascade of encrypted files—bank records, shell corporations, bribes, a video of the chairman's son snorting a white powder in a private jet.
"Do you see this?" she asked, voice silk over steel. "Every offshore account, every false invoice, every… indiscretion you thought buried. It's all here. One press and the world watches your empire crumble."
A gasp rippled through the room. The youngest director, Mira, clenched her fists, nostrils flaring.
"You can't—"
"Can't I?" Selena's smile was a razor. "I have the police chief's confession, the customs officer's signature on forged manifests, the lover you hid in Milan. All documented, timestamped, immutable. You think suits protect you? You're children with knives."
She snapped her fingers; the tablet vibrated, a soft chime echoing like a gun's safety being cocked.
"Choose. Sign the new partnership—my terms—or the world sees your sins."
Silence settled, heavy as marble. The chairman's hand shook as he reached for the pen, signature trembling onto the contract.
"Good," Selena whispered, leaning close enough for the chairman to feel her breath on his ear. "Remember, loyalty is a contract I keep. Betrayal… is a debt I collect."
She turned, the doors sliding shut behind her. Outside, night clung to the city, rain‑slick streets reflecting neon. The limousine waited, engine idling like a beast.
She descended the marble steps. A silhouette emerged from the shadows of the porch—a man in a tailored suit, eyes like polished obsidian, scar tracing his jaw. Dyane Darkstone, the husband she had loved, the man who had murdered her in a previous life. He stared, unrecognizing, his gaze soft with unfamiliar affection.
"Selena," he breathed, voice a mixture of wonder and tenderness. "You're even more radiant than I imagined. I've searched for you… in every night, in every whisper."
She stopped, heart hammering beneath silk. "Dyane," she said, each syllable a blade sheathed in honey. "Did you think I'd forget the blood on your hands?" she thought in wretched disgust.
He reached out, fingers brushing the lapel of her coat, his touch gentle, bewildered. " it is a pleasure to see you. What a staff you've got here?" He said in sadistic pleasure.
Their faces drew close, breath mingling, the world narrowing to the soft glow of the porch lantern. The moment hovered, a fragile promise of false romance, a dance of deceit.
A sudden crash shattered the silence. From the edge of the porch, a figure vaulted over the railing the golden haired guy who visited her at night his eyes burning with quiet fury.
"Selena!" he beckoned, voice reverberating through the night.
Dyane froze, eyes widening in shock, love turning to confusion. "Who—?"
Jason's jaw clenched, muscles tightening as he swallowed his disappointment. " so he is the one. The one who is stopping you from remembering that I am your love?"
Selena's gaze flickered between the two men—one a ghost of vengeance, the other a promise of redemption. Her voice, low and deadly, cut through the chaos.
"You think you can trap me with love? With blood? I am the storm you created. I will watch you both burn."selena thought in a malicious pleasure as she gazed at the heated non verbal combat between the two men.
The porch erupted in a clash of tension and fury, the night tearing apart as Selena stepped forward, eyes blazing, the world trembling beneath her resolve.