A legacy stolen, a betrayal hidden in the shadows, and a vengeance that refuses to die.
When his father is murdered, he loses everything his family, his empire, his name. Framed as a killer, he vanishes into the underworld, his heart burning for rev...
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Chapter 5
"Stranded in Glamour"
｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ
Alara hummed softly to the sound of her favorite playlist, her fingers tapping the steering wheel of her pink Porsche as she drove along the winding road through the hills.
The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over everything, and she had decided to take the scenic route home because why not?
Life was about enjoying every moment, and for Alara, every moment was perfect.
She adjusted her sunglasses, even though the sun was setting, because they were more of a fashion statement than a necessity.
Her new Dior bag sat in the passenger seat, gleaming under the dimming light, a symbol of her flawless day of indulgence.
The air was crisp, and the hills gave way to breathtaking views of the city below. Alara loved these drives.
It was peaceful, and it gave her the chance to admire herself in the rearview mirror while pretending she was in a car commercial. She smirked at the thought.
But suddenly, her car jolted and slowed down, the smooth purring of the engine faltering. Her brows furrowed as she glanced at the dashboard. The warning lights flickered.
"What the hell..." she muttered, her voice dripping with disbelief.
The Porsche rolled to a stop right in the middle of the road. Alara's perfectly manicured nails drummed impatiently on the steering wheel.
She tried restarting the engine, but it only sputtered, refusing to come back to life. She stared in stunned silence for a moment, then let out an exasperated groan.
"Ugh! Seriously? This is not happening," she said, her voice laced with frustration. "Not in this car."
She grabbed her phone to call for help, but there was no signal. Not a single bar. Her lavender nails clicked against the screen as she repeatedly checked, hoping for a miracle, but nothing.
The road was empty, and the sun was slipping lower into the horizon.
With an eye roll that would put any diva to shame, Alara pushed open the car door and stepped out.
The wind caught her hair as she stood in her short, chic dress, her heels clicking against the pavement as she approached the hood. She looked down at the engine, clueless as to what she was supposed to do next.
"Why does this only happen in the middle of nowhere?" she grumbled to herself, running her hand through her perfectly styled hair.
"I'm supposed to be home, relaxing, not stranded in the hills like some... peasant."
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