Rebirth: A Second chance at life

Inside her opulent room, Veronica stared at the screen of her phone, her expression darkening with each image sent by Sasha and Moxie. The photos captured Aurora and Alexander in what looked like an intimate confrontation, and the sight ignited a spark of jealousy and rage within her.

"Aurora, you bitch!" Veronica hissed, her nails digging into her palm. "Let's see how long you can keep showing your face after this." With a twisted smirk, she typed a quick message to an anonymous number, her fingers flying across the screen.

Satisfied, she exited the chat and leaned back, a venomous smile playing on her lips as she contemplated her next move

Cassandra was too intoxicated to be left alone, so Aurora decided to take her back to her apartment for the night. The taxi ride was quiet, the hum of the engine and the gentle sway of the car lulling Aurora into a light slumber.

After about fifteen minutes, the vehicle came to a stop, jerking Aurora awake. She straightened in her seat, her phoenix-like eyes sharp and alert despite the grogginess.

The driver turned to her, his face pale with astonishment. "How are you awake?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

Aurora held his gaze for a moment, her expression unreadable. She didn't respond immediately, letting the question hang in the air before speaking, her tone calm but pointed. "I had to see what game they're playing now."

From the moment she stepped into the car, Aurora had sensed something was amiss. The faint but persistent scent of something unnatural lingered in the air, barely noticeable but unmistakable to someone as cautious as her. The driver's subtle, erratic behavior only confirmed her suspicions.

She'd prepared for situations like this. Quietly, she had swallowed a pill that neutralized most poisons and gases that could harm the body. She wasn't afraid of their petty attempts—on the contrary, she welcomed the challenge.

Leaning back against the seat, her lips curved into a faint, knowing smirk as her mind raced. Who could be behind this? Alexander? Veronica? Or... him?

A fleeting image of Sebastian crossed her thoughts, but she quickly dismissed it with an amused shake of her head. No, he wouldn't stoop this low. His management is far too meticulous for something this clumsy.

Her amusement deepened, the smirk on her face now carrying an edge of defiance. Let them play their games. Aurora was ready to deal with whatever—or whoever—came next.

"Now, now," Aurora drawled, her voice laced with a mocking edge. "Will you stop gawking at me and report to your boss that you've captured me? Go on." A smirk curled her lips, her phoenix-like eyes glinting with amusement.

The driver's confidence wavered as beads of sweat rolled down his temple. He couldn't fathom how this young woman had uncovered their plan, especially since she had entered the car without hesitation. Still, he convinced himself she was merely putting on a brave face, masking the fear that surely churned inside her. After all, how dangerous could a mere girl be?

Snapping out of his momentary daze, he plastered on an evil grin, his tone dripping with contempt. "Shut up! How dare a weakling like you speak to me like that? So what if you're awake? Now that you're in our hands, don't think you'll escape so easily."

His arrogance blinded him to the critical detail: Aurora hadn't succumbed to the faint, lingering scent that should have rendered her unconscious. It was a mistake born of greed and overconfidence, one he would soon regret.

The man turned, his predatory gaze landing on Cassandra, who lay oblivious to the world. He took a step toward her, but Aurora's sharp voice cut through the tense silence.

"Leave her out of this," Aurora said firmly, her tone a mix of command and calm resolve. "This is about me, not her. She's innocent."

The man paused, sneering as he turned back to Aurora. "And what if I don't?" he taunted, testing her composure.

Aurora's lips curled into a faint smirk, her confidence unshaken. "I'll pay you double—whatever the perpetrators are offering you. Just keep her safe and out of this."

For a moment, the man hesitated, weighing her words. But his greed and arrogance quickly smothered any glimmer of reason. He scoffed dismissively, the sound grating and hollow.

"Keep your money, sweetheart. You're in no position to bargain," he spat, grabbing Aurora's arm with renewed force.

He yanked her forward, dragging her into the shadows of the night. The looming factory came into view, it's broken windows glinting faintly under the moonlight and its rusted beams rising like the jagged teeth of a predator ready to devour.

The driver, now brimming with smug triumph, strode toward a gruff-looking man standing nearby. "Terry," he sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "I've got her. Our plaything for tonight. Tell the client she's in our hands, and we'll send some pictures soon."

Aurora stood silently, her composed expression betraying nothing of the calculations racing through her mind. She subtly scanned the room as more than seven or eight hooligans turned their attention toward her.

The men, clustered around a filthy table littered with half-empty bottles and bent playing cards, froze when they saw her. Their reactions shifted swiftly from surprise to wicked amusement.

"She's chubby," one of them remarked with a sly grin, his gaze lingering on her. "But damn, look at her. Sexy as hell."

Another man snorted, his tone laced with mockery. "Wait a minute. Vero, didn't you say this chick was supposed to be ugly? Are you sure you nabbed the right one?"

Vero, the driver, threw back his head and laughed, waving his hand dismissively. "It's her, all right," he said confidently. "That person sent me her latest picture while I was waiting for her outside the club. No mistake."

The men exchanged knowing glances, their malice thickening the air. Aurora stood firm, her phoenix-like eyes glinting with quiet defiance as she mentally mapped out her next move. Little did they know, she was anything but the helpless victim they imagined.

Meanwhile, Aurora swiftly freed her hands, her movements precise and calculated. Grabbing a hairpin from her hair, she jabbed it directly into Vero's eye, eliciting a blood-curdling scream. Without hesitation, she clutched his throat in a vice-like grip, her nails digging into his skin. Her knee shot upward, smashing into his kneecap with such force that a sickening crack echoed through the room. Vero crumpled to the ground, howling in pain.

The sudden commotion stunned the remaining men into silence, their cards and drinks forgotten. They stared, dumbfounded, as the aura around Aurora seemed to shift. A chilling, almost otherworldly presence enveloped her, her phoenix-like eyes now blazing with a menacing light as if a demon had descended to earth.

Before the first man could react, Aurora launched into action, her lithe frame moving with deadly precision. A single roundhouse kick sent one of them sprawling into a table, scattering bottles and cards. With a flurry of swift, unrelenting strikes, she incapacitated the others, each collapsing to the floor, clutching broken limbs or gasping for breath.

In a matter of moments, all eight assailants were on their knees, trembling and groaning in pain. Their eyes reflected a mixture of terror and disbelief, as if they couldn't reconcile the fragile-looking woman before them with the force that had effortlessly dismantled them.

"W-who are you?" one of them stammered, his voice quivering as he clutched his ribs.

"Please, let us go!" another whimpered, crawling backward, his face pale and drenched in sweat.

The men couldn't fathom how someone they had assumed to be weak and harmless could turn the tables so swiftly—and with such terrifying ruthlessness. To Aurora, they were no more than ants beneath her feet, crushed without hesitation.

Vero, still writhing on the floor and clutching his bleeding eye, managed to calm his screams to a pitiful whimper. He looked up at her with terror etched across his face, his remaining eye darting about as if seeking an escape.

Aurora stood tall amidst the wreckage, her lips curving into a cold smile. "You wanted a plaything?" she said, her voice low and venomous. "Well, you've got one—but you won't enjoy it."