Power is a strange thing. It looks beautiful from the outside… but deadly when you get too close.
Just as the towers of Langford Beauty Home, shimmering under the pale glow of the moon, lights spilled over the streets, casting a golden sheen on the city below. Langford Beauty Home, a.k.a LBH, was one of the oldest, largest, and most successful fashion houses in all of Eastbridge. It had built its empire on elegance, ambition, and relentless vision. And tonight, just like every other day, it seemed untouchable.
It was closing hour at LBH. Workers were tidying their desks, switching off lights, and heading home. Some were weary and eager to rest, while others lingered a moment longer, reluctant to leave the grandeur behind.
The Langford Beauty Home stood unique in the city; aspiring employees and passersby couldn't help but steal a glance. After all, to work here was more than a job; it was a dream come true for countless job seekers.
Stepping out of the LBH was a woman in her late twenties. Her long blonde hair caught the light as she moved with the kind of confidence that made it seem like she owned the world.
Of course, she didn't, but she did own LBH, and that was a little bit close.
Sophie Langford, at twenty-seven, was a true vision of elegance, poised, striking, and magnetic. Her very presence commanded attention, the way a queen could silence a room without uttering a single word. The golden lights spilled over her tailored black suit, a perfect union of authority and beauty.
Sophie wasn't just the face of LBH, she was its legacy, carrying the empire on her shoulders with effortless grace.
However, her driver pulled up in front of the glass doors in a sleek black Bentley, which gleamed under the city lights.
An assistant hurried forward and opened the rear door with practiced precision, bowing slightly as Sophie approached.
Without breaking stride, she slid into the leather seat, the faint fragrance of jasmine and fine leather filling the car. The door clicked shut behind her, and in the next breath, the Bentley rolled away from the Langford towers, melting into the night traffic of Eastbridge.
At first, everything felt normal: the hum of the engine, the soft city lights streaking past, the tinted windows, the familiar route toward her mansion. Sophie sank into the seat, scrolling absently through the iPad on her lap.
The car had barely moved a short distance when her instincts stirred. Years of living under constant scrutiny had sharpened her awareness, and tonight, something felt wrong.
The awkward silence.
Normally, Mr. James, her driver of five years, would at least ask if she was comfortable or offer a polite remark about the traffic, but tonight, not a single word.
Sophie's brows knitted as she looked up from her screen.
"Mr. James?" she called, but didn't get any reply.
She leaned forward slightly. "Mr. James."
Still nothing, just the steady, unbroken rhythm of the tires against the street.
A chill swept over her as she called the third time. "MR. JAMES!" Her voice was sharper now.
Still no reply. That's when she noticed the hands on the steering wheel. They were rougher, broader… not Mr. James's hands at all.
Her blood ran cold.
"Who the hell are you?" she demanded, panic breaking through her usual composure.
The driver didn't turn his head. Instead, he slid one hand down, pulled a black pistol from his side, and flashed it at her without a word. In one swift move, he snatched the phone from her grasp and tossed it onto the dashboard, just out of reach.
The car sped up, veering off the familiar route. Neon lights gave way to darker, emptier streets. Sophie's heart slammed against her ribs as she realized this night, she was already in for it.
Sophie sank into the back seat, her mind racing. What should she do? Accept her fate? Scream for help? She didn't dare... not with the black pistol pressed against her side.
She shifted slightly, looking at the angle of the pistol. Too close. Her eyes scanned the dashboard, the door latch, any hint of a weakness. Nothing. She exhaled slowly, forcing calm into every muscle, reminding herself: Survive first. Think later
Just then, two black jeeps appeared behind them.
The first jeep followed quietly, its headlights dull under the street lamps. A second emerged moments later, perfectly in sync. Sophie's gaze flitted between mirrors, a flicker of hope stirred maybe she could scream to attract attention. But as they drew closer, she realized with a sinking dread that they were part of the plan. The supposed driver, the jeeps… they were all working together.
The road twisted and narrowed, leading her deeper into an unfamiliar, almost forgotten village, poverty-stricken, rough, and silent. It was a place she hadn't even believed existed on the city's outskirts. The jeeps followed her every turn, and their presence became a constant, menacing reminder that escape was totally impossible.
Finally, the Bentley slowed and came to a stop. Sophie's heart thudded violently as she looked out the window. The edge of a cliff yawned ahead, the dark void beyond a perfect mirror for the terror tightening in her chest .