Priced By My Billionaire Nemesis
My vision blurs with motion, and the pressure in my chest tightens like a fist.
I step to the edge of the sidewalk, clutching the straps of my bag as if they’re the only thing holding me to earth. My lungs seize violently, refusing to expand. A thin, high ringing builds behind my ears, drowning out the city. I try to inhale, but the air hits a wall halfway in, and panic ricochets through my body.
I stumble back, trying desperately to steady myself. The ground feels uneven under my feet. I suck in another breath, then another, but each one is thin, insufficient, like breathing through a pinhole.
Bab Populer