The driver ignited the engine and the car started moving.
The car was moving too slowly for her liking. She had to get to work, for God's sake, or she might get fired.
She decided to calm down. She didn't want to make a fuss—she was a mature lady, for crying out loud.
It felt like the car was getting slower by the second.
'This guy is really getting on my nerves,' she thought.
She wanted to yell at him but decided on a softer approach. After all, her charm stat was active.
"Hey, can you please move forward?" she said in her sweet, honeyed voice.
"Ok... okay," he stuttered. "Bu... but my brake is bad, so I don't want to risk it."
"I said move forward, no matter what it takes. I don't want to get fired," she said, her voice still low and sweet, yet with a touch of venom beneath the silk.
He felt it. Goosebumps rippled across his skin. Her voice melted his heart, but deep down, he sensed danger. Her presence brought fear. He was terrified.
He barely nodded before slamming his foot on the pedal.
Allysa relaxed in her seat. 'Am I that scary?' she thought. She had seen the fear in the driver's eyes as she spoke.
She enjoyed it—that feeling of control, of power. Someone being afraid of her made her feel wanted, important. And she never wanted to lose that feeling.
The taxi sped up, easily surpassing the 120 km/hr speed limit. It zoomed down the road until it reached a sharp turn at the end of a bridge.
The driver failed to swerve in time.
They were about to fall off the bridge.
Allysa gasped. Her head spun.
She remembered—her death from the rooftop.
She remembered she had a second chance. A chance to live for herself. A chance to dominate.
She did not want to die.
She couldn't die.
'I'm not ready to die yet,' she thought.
Meanwhile, in the driver's head:
'What the hell have I gotten myself into?' he thought. 'Is it a crime to give a ride to a beautiful girl?'
'I just wanted to make money today. I should've known better than to pick her up. Now I'm about to die—and I haven't even lived my life to the fullest.'
'it's not yet time for my death,' Allysa thought again.
She leapt toward the driver's seat, her mind racing.
'If I swerve the car at this angle, we're heading straight off the bridge. If I try to reverse quickly, the momentum might still send us over.'
Her head spun with calculations. 'The best bet is a quick 45-degree turn, then a hard reverse.'
She yanked the steering wheel. The tires screeched.
The car swung—too sharply.
She'd miscalculated.
It veered toward the edge.
She reversed hard.
The car spun, tires squealing, until it stopped—right at the edge of the cliff.
She heaved in relief, her chest rising and falling, her breasts swelling rhythmically.
Her heart pounded.
'I survived. I did it,' she thought. 'But I'm almost late for work.'
She turned to look at the driver.
His eyes were wide with shock. He couldn't believe what had just happened.
Thirty seconds ago, he had been on the brink of death. Now he was staring at a sexy pair of boobs.
Allysa caught his gaze locked on her chest. Fury surged through her.
'I just saved his life, for fuck's sake, and all he can do is stare at my chest?'
She shook her head in disgust.
But inwardly, a part of her liked it.
The part of her that craved attention. She had always wanted to be admired. And now that she was being admired... she couldn't deny it. It felt good.
A knock on the window snapped her out of her thoughts.
She rolled it down.
A middle-aged man—probably in his early fifties—stood outside. He wasn't dressed like an official, so he had to be a civilian.
She looked behind. A long line of cars had built up. Some drivers had stepped out. Clearly, they'd caused quite a scene.
"Should we call 911?" the man asked.
"Nope. We're fine. Everything is fine," Allysa replied.
"Okay," the man nodded and walked away.
He said something to the driver behind them, then got into his own car and drove off.
Traffic resumed.
"Hey, pervert! Move this car now!" she shouted at her driver.
He scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
This woman would be the death of him. He told her the brakes were faulty. They had almost died. And now she still wanted him to move the car fast?
He restarted the ignition.
He had to move the car. He was still scared of her. That subtle, lingering sense of danger pricked at his chest like a needle.
He picked up speed and drove toward Industrial Avenue.
Soon, they arrived in front of Rodney Corporation.
Allysa got out of the car. The taxi turned to leave.
'Good riddance to bad nonsense,' the driver thought, sighing in relief.
"Hey! Where are you going without collecting your pay?" Allysa called after him.
God. He almost cried inside. 'Can you just let me go, already?'
He rolled the window down, expecting another round of drama.
He didn't even know her name, yet he knew—wherever this woman was, chaos followed.
"Are you going to leave without collecting your pay?" she asked, tilting her head, lips curling into a smile.
She loved the fear in his eyes. She enjoyed it.
'God, tormenting people is just fun,' she thought.
He waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, ma'am," he said in his most polite tone. "You saved my life, so just take it as a thank-you."
"Alright then," she tossed him a ten-dollar bill. "I don't give a fuck about your opinion. You can leave now."
He sped off without another word. She chuckled as the car left a trail of fumes.
She turned to face the towering skyscraper.
Nostalgia washed over her as she stared at the signboard.
Rodney Corporation.
'Wait... isn't this the company where I met Bruce?' she thought.