CHAPTER SEVEN

Marcus stood in the carpeted hallway holding his leather tablet like a weapon. He straightened his tie, his face fixed in the same patronizing smirk he always used whenever he handled Betony in the past.

"Betony, let’s not make this embarrassing," Marcus said, keeping his voice smooth, calculated, and loud enough to carry down the quiet hall. "James is beyond stressed. I brought the digital portal. Sign the release for his half of the fifty thousand dollar house fund, and we can settle this before legal action is taken."

Betony didn't speak. She reached out, took the tablet, her fingers tapping against the glass screen.

Marcus’s smirk widened. He expected her to sign. She had always folded under the threat of conflict. 

Betony didn't tap the signature line.

Instead, her fingers moved with terrifying speed across the interface. She bypassed the authorization tab since Marcus had already unlocked the system, opened the administrative override, and typed in her primary security pin.

BEEP.

[PRIMARY OVERRIDE ACCEPTED]

[LIQUIDATING TOTAL BALANCE: $50,000.00]

Marcus’s tablet chimed softly. The green portal screen flushed dark red.

He blinked, his eyes darting down to the system alert flashing in bold white text: BALANCE: $0.00. ACCOUNT TERMINATED.

"What... what did you just do?" Marcus stuttered. "That—that was James’s money too! He put ten thousand dollars into that line!"

"And he lived in my apartment rent-free for thirty-six months," Betony said softly, her voice cool and entirely devoid of anger. "Consider his ten thousand a late utility payment."

She stepped back into her entryway.

"Thank you for bringing the live terminal directly to my door, Marcus. You saved me a trip to the bank."

Before Marcus could find his voice, the heavy steel door swung shut. A quiet, intoxicating thrill washed over her. For three agonizing years in her past life, she had let Marcus talk down to her, let James leech off her hard work, and let her mother bleed her dry under the guise of family duty.

Not anymore.

Walking into the open kitchen, she poured herself a glass of chilled white wine. She raised the glass to the windows, watching the faint evening lights of the city glitter against the dark bay. A genuinely happy, sharp smile curved her lips. She was changing. 

Setting her glass down on the island counter, Betony pulled out her leather notebook. Her pen moved swiftly, scratching satisfying black ink lines through the items she had already secured.

Underneath, she started a brand-new, ambitious list titled 

FORTRESS INFRASTRUCTURE & LIVING ACCESSORIES.

 If she was going to spend the apocalypse living in luxury while the world outside crumbled, she needed high-tier comfort, independent energy, and impenetrable environmental gear.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed on the counter.

An unlisted, number flashed on the screen. Betony picked it up, her brow furrowing slightly. "Hello?"

"You didn't check the lock on your truck’s fuel tank before you went inside," a deep, gravelly voice echoed through the speaker.

Betony blinked, her heart giving a sudden, unexpected flutter. "Zaid?"

A low, smooth chuckle vibrated down the line—warm, magnetic, and effortlessly confident. "In the flesh, Neighbor."

"How did you get my private cell number?" she asked, a faint smirk playing on her lips.

"I’m an officer in military intelligence, Betony. Finding a phone number takes me roughly four seconds," Zaid said easily. Then, his tone softened, dropping into a low tone. "Open your front door."

Puzzled, Betony walked to the entrance and pulled the door open.

Standing in the hallway was a uniformed delivery driver holding a sleek, insulated box wrapped with a dark satin ribbon. He bowed politely, handed her the package, and walked toward the elevator.

"What is this?" Betony asked into the phone, carrying the warm, fragrant box inside.

"You’ve been running on adrenaline all day," Zaid said, the quiet background hum of a military command room faint behind his voice. "I don't know your exact taste yet, but I had the chef at the Plaza prepare a proper dinner for you—seared filet mignon, roasted asparagus, and truffle mash. I’m stuck on night duty at the base tonight, or I’d be eating it with you. Consider it a down payment on a dinner date I owe you."

Betony set the box down, a soft, genuine smile softening her sharp features. "You didn't have to do that, Officer."

"I wanted to," Zaid replied, his voice thick with a grounded, protective warmth that made her toes curl softly in her slippers. "Eat well, rest up, and keep that steel door locked. Goodnight, Neighbor."

"Goodnight, Zaid," she whispered.

The call ended. Betony sat at her counter, enjoying the rich, hot meal, feeling a strange, wonderful sense of warmth blooming in her chest. For the first time in two lifetimes, someone was looking out for her.

At 8:00 AM sharp the next morning, Betony drove her heavy truck straight to the city’s massive industrial tech district. Today was dedicated entirely to high-tech survival gear and off-grid infrastructure.

She pulled up to Apex Power & Electronics, the premier supplier for off-grid industrial equipment. Walking into the air-conditioned room, she went straight to the commercial sales manager, pulling out a thick stack of cashier's checks.

"I need your highest-spec equipment, packed and ready for immediate loading into my truck," Betony said coolly.

For the next two hours, Betony indulged in a relentless, exhilarating shopping spree:

 Four commercial-grade, portable solar generator stations equipped with flexible, ultra-durable monocrystalline solar blankets capable of drawing power even through heavy overcast skies. Six industrial space heaters, four dual-hose portable air conditioners, and twelve heavy-duty thermal air purifiers with medical-grade HEPA filters to scrub toxic particles and smoke.

Two high-capacity atmospheric water generators capable of extracting sixty liters of pure drinking water daily directly from air humidity, alongside three reverse-osmosis water distillation rigs. Ten long-range satellite radios, encrypted walkie-talkie sets, thermal imaging binoculars, four high-definition night-vision tactical scopes, and two ruggedized satellite internet terminals with pre-paid multi-year subscriptions. She placed a rush order for a plush king-sized orthopedic mattress, vacuum-sealed goose-down comforters, modular leather sofas, and a complete suite of high-efficiency kitchen appliances.

The store workers bustled around her like ants, stacking massive wooden crates and heavy metal cases onto the open bed of her reinforced truck.

As the final crate of solar batteries was strapped down, a car screeched to a halt across the four-lane avenue. The rear door slammed open.

Saskia stepped out onto the pavement. She looked distressed. After James’s credit cards were declined, the birthday venue canceled, and news broke that Betony had emptied and closed the house fund, Saskia had spent the entire night restless. 

She was driving to work when she spotted Betony standing next to that luxury truck.

Saskia’s eyes widened in sheer, unbelievable fury as she saw Betony standing casually beside a brand-new, terrifyingly expensive truck loaded with tens of thousands of dollars in shiny, high-tech equipment.

How?! How was the quiet, obedient girl who used to pay for Saskia’s salon visits suddenly standing there like a queen, spending small fortunes while James was broke and her mother was crying at home?

"Betony!" Saskia shrieked, her voice shrill and trembling with rage as she marched up onto the curb.

Betony didn't jump. Slowly, effortlessly, she turned around. She rested one arm casually against the side of her heavy truck, her dark eyes completely unbothered.

Saskia stopped two feet away, her chest heaving, her disheveled hair making her look utterly unhinged next to Betony’s sleek, high-end composure. Driven by raw, narcissistic envy, Saskia’s mouth twisted into a vile, sharp-tongued sneer.

"Look at you, playing dress-up with expensive toys," Saskia hissed, her voice venomous. "You think buying all this tech makes you better than me? You’re still the same pathetic loser, Betony. You want to know why your own mother never loved you? Why she gave all her affection to me instead? Because I’m beautiful, warm, and loveable, everything you could never be."

Saskia stepped closer, tossing her head back with a cruel, triumphant laugh.

"And James? You were just his convenient little doormat. The moment I gave him a smile, he threw you away like trash. I took your mother’s heart, and I took your man because deep down, everybody knows you’re just fundamentally unlovable."

In her past life, those exact words would have crushed Betony, driving her into tears and desperate begging. But now, hearing Saskia boast about her pathetic betrayals only ignited a cold, lethal fury in Betony’s chest.

"You took James?" Betony asked, her voice dropping into a low, terrifyingly smooth register that cut like a razor. "Saskia, you didn't take my man. You took a useless, spineless parasite off my hands and saved me the trouble of throwing him out myself."

Betony’s lips curved into a dark, mocking smile that made Saskia’s skin crawl.

"Did you really think winning James was a prize?" Betony continued, her dark eyes flashing with absolute disdain. "His wealthy family disowned him several months ago. He doesn't have a single penny to his name, he’s drowning in debt, and he has zero future. You didn't win a trophy, Saskia—you inherited my garbage."

Saskia’s face flushed a deep, embarrassed red. "You..."

"And as for my mother?" Betony interrupted, her voice dropping into a razor-sharp whisper as she leaned in close to Saskia's ear. "You aren't 'lovable.' You’re a street rat. An ungrateful, filthy leech I brought into my home out of pity, who learned how to hide her claws while feeding on everyone else's lifeblood."

Betony stepped back, looking down at Saskia like she was nothing more than a stain on the asphalt.

"Keep James. Keep my mother. Feed on them until they’re as hollow as you are," Betony said softly, her eyes turning pitch-black with a cold, terrifying promise. "Because when the sky falls and the waters rise, Saskia... you're going to realize that without me paying your way, you aren't even worth saving. And when you come crawling to my door begging for a single drop of water... I will watch you starve through the glass."