The Billionaire Who Stole My Life and the Secret Brother Who Kept It
At the ground level, I pushed open a heavy metal door marked with a red exit sign.
Cold rain hit my face immediately, shocking my lungs.
I was in a narrow gravel alleyway behind the private clinic, surrounded by tall brick walls.
A black SUV was idling near the street corner, its headlights cutting through the wet mist.
I shrank into the shadows, pressing my back against the damp brick.
The security guards would check the main parking lot first.
I turned the opposite way, running toward a gap in the wooden fence that led to a residential side street.
My feet splashed through deep puddles, soaking my socks inside my shoes.
I didn’t stop running until I reached my rented sedan, parked three blocks away under a flickering streetlight.
My hands shook so violently I dropped the keys twice on the wet asphalt.
I scrambled to pick them up, unlocked the door, and threw myself into the driver’s seat.
I locked the doors immediately and sat in the darkness, breathing heavily.
The street remained quiet, the rain drumming a steady, heavy beat on the car roof.