Todos los capítulos de The Rebirth of a Vengeful Heiress: I’ll End You Before the W: Capítulo 31 - Capítulo 40

Downtown Oakhaven had descended into chaos by late afternoon.Sirens echoed constantly through overheated streets.Storefronts closed early after repeated riots over ice and bottled water. Entire residential blocks lost power. People sat outside apartment buildings drenched in sweat, fanning themselves desperately beneath the suffocating heat.Julian Larson’s luxury sports car barely survived the drive.The engine coughed violently as he pulled up outside the Vane estate, steam hissing from beneath the hood.Inside the vehicle, the air conditioning had completely failed.Julian looked awful.His expensive shirt clung to his body with sweat. Dark circles hollowed his eyes from days of financial collapse and sleepless panic.Beside him, Lydia looked close to hysterics.“Julian, I can’t breathe in this car anymore!” she snapped, aggressively fanning herself with a designer magazine. “Why is it so hot?!”“Because the damn city grid is dying!” Julian barked back.Lydia suddenly froze.“Wai

Inside the sealed vault of the abandoned Vane mansion, the darkness was thick, heavy, and rapidly turning into a suffocating tomb. The internal temperature had soared past forty-six degrees Celsius. With the ventilation system locked down and reversing the blistering external heat into the unyielding concrete walls, the grand foyer had effectively become a kiln.Julian Larson slumped against the base of a massive marble pillar, his multi-thousand-dollar designer shirt torn completely open to the waist. His skin was slick with a sickening layer of sweat, dust, and grime. His throat felt like it had been scraped with sandpaper, and his eyes were bloodshot from dehydration.A few feet away, Lydia was in an even worse state. The glamorous socialite who usually wouldn’t be caught dead without flawless makeup was unrecognizable. Her mascara had melted down her cheeks in black, ghostly streaks, and her hands were raw and bleeding from frantically clawing at the seamless metal security shutte

Deep in the quiet luxury of my master suite, the air was a soothing, perfectly regulated twenty-two degrees Celsius. Wrapped in plush, high-thread-count silk sheets, my body had finally begun to recover from the brutal physical toll of the past week's hoarding sprints. I was deep in a dreamless, peaceful sleep, anchored by the absolute security of the fortress around me.*BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.*A violent, high-pitched electronic alarm didn't ring out in the room—it detonated directly inside my cerebral cortex. My eyes snapped open in the darkness, my heart hammering wildly against my ribs as a massive, neon-blue holographic interface materialized right before my eyes, casting an eerie, warning glow across the dark bedroom ceiling.[CRITICAL INTERFACE UPDATE: THERMAL APEX COLLAPSE IMMINENT.][ARCTIC SNAP CONVERGENCE COUNTER: 03 HOURS, 00 MINUTES, 00 SECONDS.][WARNING: REVERSAL FROM METROPOLITAN HEAT TO SUB-ZERO SECTOR TEMPERATURE WILL BE SUDDEN AND SEVERE.

The seventy-two-hour digital lock on the Vane mansion downtown finally released with a deep, mechanical thunk. A second later, the military-grade titanium shutters began to rise. Metal groaned against metal as the barricades slowly lifted upward, revealing a world that no longer resembled the one they remembered. The suffocating forty-degree heatwave was gone. In its place waited a merciless white apocalypse. Blizzard winds screamed through the empty streets. Snow drifted across abandoned luxury cars buried halfway beneath ice. The temperature outside had plunged to negative twenty degrees Celsius, and the cold carried a savage sharpness that felt almost alive. Inside the dark foyer, Julian Vane and Lydia Vane lay crumpled against one another on the marble floor like survivors of a war. They looked horrific. Their eyes were bloodshot and hollow from dehydration and

By noon the following day, a strange, suffocating stillness gripped the entire country. The sun was nothing more than a faint, sickly white blur trapped behind a thick sheet of high-altitude grey haze. Even from inside the heavily insulated safety of Villa 09, the world beyond the reinforced thermal glass looked wrong—muted, drained of life, as though color itself had frozen solid. Inside the command center, the atmosphere was tense and unnaturally quiet except for the low hum of backup generators and the occasional crackle of radio static. Every screen displayed emergency warnings, failing satellite feeds, and collapsing temperature charts that looked more like cardiac arrest monitors than weather reports. The large wall-mounted media screen flickered violently before stabilizing on the last surviving emergency broadcast network. A visibly trembling news anchor stared into the camera. He wore a heavy wool turtleneck beneath a thick winter coat despite being indoors. Frost clung f