𝑯𝒆𝒓 𝑯𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝑪𝒉𝒆𝒄𝒌𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆
From high school politics to running a nation, she's always been a master of manipulation, using her wit and tactics to navigate the dark world of power. Unbeknownst to her, someone has been watching-ruthless rul...
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Aria looked at the towering guards in front of her. "WHO IS WITH THEM!? HOW DID THEY CATCH YOU!? THE HIGH MINISTER!? THE PRESIDENT!? OR… NO, NO!" Haris’s panicked voice burst through her earpiece as he sped down the road.
Aria, unfazed, stared at the guards who stood like immovable walls. For the first time, a flicker of doubt crossed her mind. “Was it my mistake?” she whispered. She had always believed that if she was at fault, she would surrender—but if it was someone else’s mistake, it didn’t matter; she would never back down.
“ARE YOU THERE?!” Haris’s voice cracked as his bike tore through the streets, dangerously over-speeding.
“Tell me,” Aria demanded, her voice steady as she stood her ground.
Haris knew her nature too well—she wouldn’t rest without an answer. “No,” he replied firmly.
That was all she needed.
The guards sprang into action, rushing toward her. Aria dodged the first one’s grasp, grabbed a nearby screen, and smashed it over his head. The second guard wrapped an arm around her waist, locking her in place.
She sighed, muttering to herself, “Who told you, Aria, that you could fight these big guys?”
With her free hand, she pressed her thumb into the pressure point beneath his chin. The guard growled in pain, his grip loosening enough for her to punch him in the neck at an angle. He dropped her instantly.
Before the second guard could react, she slipped out of his reach and bolted through the door.
Aria ran down the hallway, her sharp gaze scanning for an exit. She spotted more guards charging toward her from the front.
“Who caught you?!” Haris’s voice trembled with worry.
“I don’t know,” Aria replied, her tone sharp as she kept moving.
Haris’s worst fear flashed in his mind—Xaniar Hadid. If Xaniar knew, they were doomed. But if they escaped before he found out, the High Minister and the President would be too terrified to report their failure.
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Aria spotted a staircase and darted through the door, sprinting down the steps. She was on the 20th floor—or higher.
“Are you still wearing a worker’s uniform?” Haris asked, his voice strained.
“Yes,” she answered as the blaring alarm filled the stairwell.
“They’ve activated the full security alert. Guards will be everywhere,” Haris warned.
Hearing footsteps closing in from above and below, Aria paused. Her instincts kicked in as she assessed her surroundings. “Give me information,” she said, her tone menacing.
The guards reached her from both sides, trapping her against the stairwell railing.
“You’re caught, Aria,” Haris muttered, disbelief lacing his voice as his bike screeched to a halt in front of the red-arrow gate.
Aria smirked. “That’s why I’m who I am,” she said, spotting a fire hose nearby. Without hesitation, she grabbed it and leaped over the railing.
Her breath caught as the hose swung her through the air, shocking the guards. But it wasn’t long enough. The sudden stop jolted her body painfully, but the angle of her swing distributed the impact. Gritting her teeth, she aimed for the nearest railing but missed.
Taking a deep breath, she let go and dropped to the next floor, landing hard on her knees. Pain shot through her, but she forced herself up, catching her breath.
“Tell me where I am,” she demanded, pacing quickly. “Open offices, bathrooms on the left, two hallways…”
Haris, still in shock at how she survived, scrambled to recall the layout. “You’re on the first floor,” he said finally.
“I jumped 21 floors,” Aria muttered proudly.
Haris gasped but took a steadying breath. By now, he knew nothing about her was impossible.
“The High Minister just arrived. Their cars are parked at the black-arrow gate,” Haris informed her.
Aria glanced out the floor-to-ceiling window, spotting the car and its driver. Her lips curled into a sly smile. “The driver looks weak,” she chuckled.
Haris’s body tensed. “No, Aria. No! Don’t even think about it!”
Ignoring him, Aria grabbed a computer monitor and hurled it at the window. It didn’t break.
“Damn it!” she hissed, spotting a fire extinguisher. She picked it up, muttering, “This better work,” before throwing it at the window. The glass shattered.
“SHE’S HERE! CATCH HER!” a sharp voice yelled behind her.
Aria sighed, sarcasm dripping from her tone. “Why do these guys always interrupt?”
She backed up a few steps, then sprinted forward, leaping out of the shattered window.
The fall was brutal. She hit the ground on her knees and palms, gasping in pain. Her hands throbbed, almost immobile, but she forced herself to stand.
The driver turned, eyes wide with shock. “You?!”
“Yes, me,” Aria replied dryly, landing a punch to his face despite the searing pain in her hand.
She grabbed his keys and pressed the button to locate the car. When the Porsche’s headlights flashed, her face lit up.
“Oh man,” she muttered, sliding into the driver’s seat.
Reversing quickly, she spun the car and sped away. The Porsche tore through the road, its engine roaring.
