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The tires screamed against the asphalt as the sleek, matte-black luxurious car tore through the city's neon-drenched veins. Inside, the air smelled of expensive leather and cold fury.
The Drive
Gabriella gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles white. She looked ethereal yet dangerous in her crisp white long-sleeve silk top, the fabric shimmering under the rhythmic pulse of passing streetlights. Her pleated skirt rustled against the bucket seat every time she shifted gears with violent precision.
The city was a blur of blurred lights, but her eyes—sharp and glistening with unshed tears—were fixed on the road ahead. She wasn't just driving; she was hunting.
The Call
The car's console lit up. Dona was calling. Gabriella hit the speaker, her breath hitching.
"Gabriella! I'm finally back in town," Dona's voice crackled, frantic. "I just heard... I didn't know your father got arrested this evening. I'm in shock. Where are you?"
"I'm going to meet Bianca," Gabriella replied. Her voice wasn't a scream; it was a blade—cold, sharp, and steady.
"What? Don't!" Dona gasped.
Gabriella slammed on the brakes. The car screeched to a halt in the middle of the empty bridge, the smell of burnt rubber filling the cabin.
"Are you out of your mind?" Dona shouted through the speakers. "You're going to face the lion in its den! Bianca ruined your father. She's dangerous, Gabriella."
"Yes," Gabriella scoffed, a dark smirk playing on her lips. "I'll be the thorn in that lion's paw."
"Don't be rash," Dona pleaded. "Think! The most important thing is bringing your father home. We need a win, not a confrontation."
For a split second, Gabriella's icy gaze softened. The image of her father in handcuffs flashed through her mind—the man who had given her everything, now framed for a money laundering scheme he never touched. The pain in her chest felt like a physical weight.
"Gabriella, listen to me," Dona said, her tone turning deadly serious. "I'm at my house. Meet me at the lawyer's office. I know someone. He can help us."
Gabriella let out a bitter, hollow laugh. "A lawyer? Every lawyer I've spoken to today says it's impossible. Bianca planted the evidence too deep. She bought the paper trail. It's a dead end."
"Not for him," Dona insisted. "He doesn't lose. No case is impossible for him. Believe me. Just come. I'm sending you the address now."
The phone chimed with a notification. Gabriella looked at the glowing map on her dashboard. The destination was a secluded office in the high-rent district.
She stared at the name of the lawyer on the screen. Her heart hammered against her ribs—a mix of hope and lingering vengeance.
"Fine," Gabriella whispered. She shifted the car into gear, the engine roaring like a caged beast finally let loose. "I'm coming."
She floored the accelerator, the car disappearing into the shadows of the skyscrapers.
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The city lights flickered outside the towering windows of the grand mansion, a marble-clad fortress sitting right in the heart of the city's chaos. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of expensive cigars and the heavy silence of power.
Gabriella stood at the grand entrance, her heart a frantic drum against her ribs. Her white long-sleeve silk top felt tight now, a contrast to the dark, intimidating shadows of the hallway. Beside her, Dona grabbed her hand, squeezing it tight.
"I'm here, Gabby," Dona whispered. "He's the only one who can do this."
An assistant, dressed in a silent charcoal suit, appeared and led them deep into the mansion. They entered an office that looked more like a museum—lined with leather-bound books and cold, gold accents.
Behind a massive mahogany desk sat Mr. Victor. At 43, he looked like a king in exile, wearing dark silk pajamas and leaning back with a cigar between his fingers. His salt-and-pepper hair caught the dim light, and his eyes remained fixed on a glowing laptop screen.
"Mr. Victor," Dona began, her voice trembling slightly. "This is Gabriella. Mr. Fredrick's daughter."
Victor didn't look up. He didn't even blink. He simply waved a hand, signaling them to sit. The silence stretched, agonizing and heavy, as he scrolled through a file. Finally, he closed the laptop and looked at them. A slow, chilling smile spread across his face.
Dona hesitated,"Could you bring him Back? ".
"Are you doubting me?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.
"No!" Dona stammered. "I just mean... the other lawyers said it was impossible. The money laundering evidence is—"
Victor removed his glasses, his expression turning devoid of any emotion. "If you believe the words of 'other' lawyers, why are you sitting in my office?"
The tension in the room snapped. Gabriella leaned forward, her eyes like frozen emeralds. "Mr. Victor," she said, her voice cutting through the cigar smoke. "Talk directly. Cut the crap."
Dona gasped. "Gabby!"
Victor smirked, leaning in. "You really are Fredrick's daughter, aren't you? Same fire. Same arrogance."
"Can you bring my father back or not?" Gabriella demanded.
"I can," Victor replied simply.
Relief washed over Gabriella for a split second, her eyes softening. But then Victor leaned back. "I only said that because she doubted me. I like to play. But I am expensive, Gabriella. Very expensive."
Gabriella didn't hesitate. She reached into her clutch and slid a black credit card across the polished wood. Victor glanced at the name.
"This is your father's card," Victor said, his smile widening. "It's likely been frozen since the arrest."
Gabriella's heart sank. She pulled out her own personal card. "Use mine."
The assistant stepped forward and swiped the card. A cold beep echoed in the room. "Declined," the assistant muttered.
Gabriella felt like she had been punched. "That's impossible."
"Is it?" Victor chuckled darkly. "This is a big case, Gabriella. They've blocked your accounts, too. You're penniless."
Dona quickly pulled out her own card. "Use mine! My father is abroad, he's Mr. Fredrick's best friend. He'll cover whatever it takes."
Gabriella heart melted when she saw Dona.
The assistant swiped it. Victor shook his head. "Still not enough. You have no idea what my fee is, girl. Ask your father—he knows exactly what I charge for a miracle."
"No, Dona," Gabriella snapped, standing up. She looked at Victor, her soul burning with a mix of betrayal and hate. "I know who you are. You were my father's friend once. But I can see it now. You don't want to help. You're enjoying this."
Victor's eyes locked onto hers, unblinking.
"I don't need you as my lawyer, Mr. Victor," Gabriella scoffed, grabbing Dona's hand and dragging her toward the door. "Keep your mansion. I'll find another way to burn Bianca to the ground."
As the heavy oak doors slammed shut behind them, Victor took a slow drag of his cigar. The smoke curled around his head like a crown.
"No, Gabriella," he whispered to the empty room, his smirk turning into something much more dangerous. "You don't know me at all. If you did... you never would have walked in here tonight."
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To be Continued.....
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