Bianca was not just Bella's best friend. She was also a lawyer, and a brilliant one at that. She had been practising for nearly three years, and though she was six years older than Bella, most people found it hard to believe. Bianca's petite frame and youthful face often made her look younger, while Bella's curvy figure and striking features made her appear older than her age. In high school, her classmates had even nicknamed her Miss Kim because of her hourglass body.
Their bond ran deeper than most friendships. Their mothers had been inseparable since fourth grade, two girls who had discovered on the very first day of class that they shared the same birthday. They carried that friendship into adulthood, and their daughters followed in their footsteps, becoming more like sisters than friends.
So when Bella told Bianca what had happened at Hampson International how the receptionist had insulted her, how Christian had dared to sell Dylla without her consent Bianca listened carefully. But when Bella mentioned her plan to sue the youngest billionaire in Europe, Bianca's reaction was not what Bella expected.
Bianca laughed. Loudly. So loudly that tears rolled down her cheeks.
"Really, Anca?" Bella said, using her own nickname for her.
Bianca wiped her eyes, still shaking with laughter. "Oh, Bella. You cannot be serious. Sue Christian Hampson? You are not afraid of this man at all?"
Bella glared at her. "This is not funny. I cannot just forget about my car. Dylla was the only memory I had left of my grandmother. I cannot sit and do nothing."
Bianca's smile softened at that, but Bella was already grabbing her bag. She was determined.
They drove back to Hampson International, this time in Bianca's car. Bianca should not have been out of the hospital yet, but she insisted on coming. Bella could barely concentrate as she steered the car out of the parking lot. Her hands froze on the wheel when she spotted him.
Christian Hampson.
The billionaire bachelor himself was walking out of the building toward his car, a black 2020 Mercedes Benz AMG G63 Mansory PP. Bella recognized it instantly. She had read about it in a magazine, an article that bragged about how Christian had customized the car to ensure no one else in the world owned the exact same model. He was a lover of luxury vehicles. His collection was said to exceed ten cars, each one worth millions. Just recently, he had purchased a Lamborghini Urus Mansory worth a billion dollars.
And yet, he had sold Dylla.
Bella's anger ignited. No wonder he had not cared about her little Kia. Compared to his fleet, Dylla must have looked like scrap metal.
She did not think. She just ran. Her shoes slapped the ground as she sprinted toward him, her chest heaving with each step. By the time she caught up, she was out of breath, but her determination pushed the words out anyway.
"Mr Hampson, please," she gasped. "I need to talk to you. It is about my car. That car was the only gift my grandmother gave me before she passed away. I cannot afford another. I am trying to support my mother and my younger brothers. I will be graduating in a few months, and it has always been my dream to be a flight attendant. I have already applied to your aviation school. Please, I am begging you. I will work for you for free after my graduation until I can pay back the damage. Just let me have my car back. Please, sir."
Her voice broke on the last word. Her chest hurt from both running and pleading.
Christian stopped, his dark eyes sweeping over her without a hint of sympathy. His lips curled into something between a smirk and disdain.
"In how many years do you think you could pay me two hundred thousand dollars?" His tone was calm, almost mocking.
Bella's breath caught. "Two... two hundred"
"You would not be able to pay me in your lifetime," he continued smoothly, cutting her off. "I did you a favor by selling that car. Do not be foolish enough to believe I could not sell it under twenty four hours. As a matter of fact, it was gone within ten minutes of posting it on the company's site. You did not sell it. I did. Do you want to know why, Miss Walter? Because I have made a name for myself. Anything I put up for sale becomes sold out. That is the difference between you and me."
His words sliced through her like knives, each syllable dripping with arrogance.
"And since we are being honest," Christian went on, his voice colder now, "your application to my aviation school will be rejected. I do not need a ramshackle, low life student representing my institution. You are not fit to be in my company, let alone my school. So take my advice. Forget about this silly dream. You are not cut out for it."
Bella stared at him, her eyes wide.
"And one more thing," he added, stepping closer until his cologne filled the air around her. "I heard you plan to sue me. By all means, be my guest. I look forward to the entertainment. Adieu, butterfly."
Without another glance, he disappeared into the building, leaving Bella rooted to the spot.
She stood there long after he had gone, the echo of his words ringing in her ears. Butterfly. He had called her butterfly, yet crushed her wings in the same breath. Not only had he sold her car, but now he was threatening her future.
Hampson Aviation School was not just the best in England. It was ranked number one in the entire world. Bella had worked herself to the bone, kept straight A grades since freshman year, and pushed through every hardship to stay on track. And now, because of him, all of it could come crashing down.
Her hands trembled as she called a cab for Bianca. She could not even drive. She needed time to think. She needed to be alone.
She waited outside the towering building until the lights dimmed and the employees began to leave. By the time Christian finally emerged again, it was almost midnight. Bella's heart pounded. She had made up her mind. She would follow him.
But Christian noticed her almost immediately. He did not stop. He did not even look back. Instead, he made a call. Within minutes, shadows closed in around Bella. Security guards.
She barely had time to gasp before everything went black.
When Bella woke, she was lying in a bed softer than any she had ever known. The room around her was breathtaking, with chandeliers glowing warmly above, curtains of rich velvet hanging from the tall windows, and furniture carved with golden edges.
It was not her room. It was not her house.
She sat up quickly, her eyes darting around. Panic surged through her chest. "Where am I? Who brought me here?"
She checked her body, relief flooding her when she saw she was still fully clothed. She jumped to her feet, racing toward the door. She twisted the knob again and again, but it would not open.
"Hello?" she screamed, her voice cracking. "Is anyone there? Let me out! Please!"
No answer.
The silence pressed in, suffocating and cold. That was when the truth slammed into her.
She had been kidnapped.
But by who? And for what?