Cleopatra
"Hey, Harley, can you tell me… what was I like a year ago?" My voice was calm, but my mind was anything but. Ever since the rebirth, fragments of my memory felt misplaced, like pieces of a puzzle scattered beyond reach. No matter how much I tried, one moment remained agonizingly blank: my wedding day.
Was Don telling the truth when he said I didn't even attend? His words haunted me. I wanted to call him a liar, but how could I, when I had no memory of any wedding celebration?
Harley's gaze flicked to me through the rearview mirror. She frowned slightly, steering the sleek car with practiced precision. "What do you mean, Boss? Can you be more specific?"
I sighed, my eyes following the streaking lights outside the window. "I mean my marriage to Don. I can't recall the details. Did I ask you to handle it?"
She shook her head. "No, Boss. The families arranged it. You handed them a budget and left it to them."
A pang of guilt pricked at me. I didn't even involve Harley? That didn't sound like me at all.
"And the ceremony? When was it planned? Because I don't remember being invited to my own damn wedding." My words were sharp, masking the unease creeping into my voice.
Harley hesitated before answering. "The original date was February 20, 2021."
I froze. That date I knew. But not for a wedding. That was the day a fire tore through one of our factories. I'd spent hours there, managing the disaster, speaking to grieving families. By the time I left, it was well past dawn. A wedding? Impossible.
Harley's voice pulled me back. "Boss, your aunts… They stole the wedding money."
"What?"
"You were so furious you canceled the ceremony altogether. When they tried to plan it again, you didn't bother."
I clenched my fists. That felt right—something I would do. But there was more, wasn't there?
Harley continued cautiously. "That fire… it affected you, Boss. You started fainting. The psychologist said it might've been triggered by the guilt."
Fainting spells? That didn't happen in my first life. Sure, the fire devastated me. Losing the managers, the workers—it ate at me for weeks. But fainting? This timeline, this life, felt like it belonged to someone else.
"Boss, you really need to take better care of your health—"
Her voice was cut off by a sharp crack in the distance.
"Boss, watch out!" Harley screamed.
Gunshots rang out, sharp and echoing in the night. One of the attackers fell from the roof of a nearby truck, a clean shot taken by one of my men.
"Harley, what's happening?" I demanded, snapping out of my thoughts.
"It's a trap," she said, her voice steady despite the rising tension.
I scanned the vehicles around us. They weren't just random cars stuck in traffic. They bore the same insignia—a blood-red talon slashed across a black shield.
"The Crimson Talons," I hissed.
Harley nodded grimly. "They've boxed us in."
"Change lanes. Do a U-turn. Tell the squad to retreat and stay hidden until backup arrives," I ordered.
She obeyed, maneuvering the car out of the trap, but the Talons were relentless. Three cars followed us, their engines roaring like predators closing in on prey.
"Boss, let me take the wheel. I can hold them off," Harley suggested, her grip on the steering wheel firm.
"No," I said, grabbing the rifle from under the seat. "I'll handle it."
But before I could take aim, a deafening roar filled the air.
"Boss!" Harley's scream sent a chill down my spine.
The truck we had passed earlier was barreling toward us, its massive frame blocking the entire lane.
Harley swerved hard, but the impact was inevitable. The car flipped, spinning through the air before crashing down with a bone-jarring thud.
Pain shot through me as I unbuckled myself. My head throbbed, my ribs ached, but I pushed it all aside.
"Harley," I rasped, forcing my body to move. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she said weakly, though blood dripped from a gash on her forehead.
"Good. Push your door open. We need to move."
We crawled out of the wreckage. My head was bleeding too, but I wiped the blood away, waving Harley off when she pointed it out.
"There's a cave nearby. We'll hide there until backup arrives," I said, scanning our surroundings. The mountains loomed ahead, their shadows offering the only chance of safety.
As we stumbled forward, I reached for my phone. My fingers moved without thought, dialing the one number I'd sworn never to call.
Don.
The line rang once. Twice. Three times.
I was about to hang up when his voice came through, cold and sharp.
"Hello?"
A shiver ran down my spine.
I forced a smile, though he couldn't see it. "Oh. You answered. I had an accident."