Romane von Oreoluwa Ajia

The constant ringing of Eliana’s burner phone had finally died down, replaced by a wall of frantic text messages from Rosalie.If you do not return home and unfreeze the trust by tonight, I will report you to the police for financial fraud, one message read.Your father would be disgusted by what you're doing to this family, read another.Eliana swiped the notifications away without a second thought.Let Rosalie file police reports.By the time a civil court opened a case file, police departments across the city would cease to exist.She pulled her car into the industrial district on the east side of the city.The area was lined with heavy machinery warehouses, metal fabrication shops, and private security firms.She parked outside a low-rise steel building bearing a simple black plaque: Hawthorne Tactical & Infrastructure Solutions.She had selected Tristan Hawthorne after hours of research on private defense contractors.A former combat engineer, Hawthorne was known in wealthy circle

The phone in Eliana’s purse had not stopped vibrating for twenty minutes.She sat inside a quiet coffee shop two blocks away from the law firm, watching the screen light up repeatedly. Seven missed calls from Christian.Twelve from Rosalie.Four panicked text messages from Genevieve demanding to know why the family credit cards were showing balance warnings.Eliana took a slow sip of her iced black coffee.The bitter taste washed over her tongue, keeping her grounded in the present.In her past life, a single angry call from Christian would have sent her into an apologetic spiral.She would have stayed up all night crying, wondering what she had done wrong to make him pull away.Now, seeing his name flash on the screen brought nothing but a cold, clinical boredom.She opened her bank app, confirmed that Mr. Black’s firm had initiated the temporary freeze on all joint household accounts, and then turned off her phone completely.Let them panic.Let them wonder how they were going to co

Christian Whitmore sat at the marble kitchen island, swirling a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.He didn't look like a murderer. He looked like an ad for a luxury clothing brand, dressed in a tailored cream sweater with his styled hair perfectly in place.As Eliana walked down the stairs, he barely looked up from his phone."Finally," Christian said, his tone dripping with mild annoyance. "You took forever.Did Genevieve tell you about the transfer? The investment deadline for the commercial space is at noon. I need that thirty thousand in my account within the hour."Eliana stopped at the bottom of the staircase. Her hands hung loosely at her sides. In her past life, she would have panicked at his displeased tone.She would have apologized, rushed to her laptop, and transferred the funds immediately just to keep him from walking away.Now, looking at his handsome face, she only saw the man who had wrapped his arm around her stepsister while monsters tore her flesh apart."Elian

The pouring rain felt like ice needles on Eliana’s skin, but it was nothing compared to the freezing deadness inside her chest.She slammed her blood-stained palms against the tall, heavy iron bars of the gate."Please! Open the gate! Please, Christian, open the door!"Her voice was raw, shredded from screaming. She could barely stand. Her knees buckled into the freezing mud, soaking her oversized, torn sweater. Behind her, the city was burning in the dark.The entire sky had turned a deep, unnatural blood-red, heavy with storm clouds that smelled like copper and burning flesh. Thirty minutes ago, every electrical light in the world had flickered out at once.Then the screams had begun.Unnatural, grotesque creatures had burst through the asphalt, tearing through crowds, dragging motorists out of their cars, ripping limbs off bodies in seconds. Eliana had run four miles through the madness, her heavy body aching, her lungs burning, single-mindedly fighting her way back to the only safety