Her Rebirth.

The scandal surrounding Amelia had finally died down, though it was largely due to Kai buying out the top trending spots. But Liavenne knew that just because it wasn’t trending anymore didn’t mean it was forgotten. If they didn’t address it properly now, it could be used against Amelia again in the future. So they had planned a press conference.

Amelia would answer the media’s questions, clear her name, and settle the matter once and for all.

In the dressing room, Amelia sat in front of a well-lit mirror, a makeup artist applying the finishing touches to her look.

Her complexion was flawless, her features soft yet sharp. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

Just as the artist adjusted the gloss on her lips, the dressing room door swung open.

Damien walked in, his red hair neatly combed back, dressed in a luxurious velvet tuxedo. His expression was serious. He was going to be with Amelia every step of the interview.

"The press are already outside," he informed her. "They look like ravenous wolves, ready to devour."

Amelia chuckled, clearly unbothered.

"They won’t."

Damien sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Just to be safe, only answer questions you’re sure of. If you can’t answer, say ’no reply.’ Silence is better than letting them twist your words."

He was right.

The press had a reputation for twisting stories into whatever brought in views and money, so one had to be very careful when dealing with them.

Amelia nodded.

"I’ll go out to set the stage," Damien said with a sigh and stepped out of the dressing room.

After a short while, the makeup artist was done.

She stepped back, admiring her work. "You look stunning, Miss Cosgrove."

Amelia glanced at the mirror, a small smile curling her lips. She did look pretty.

"Thank you."

As she was about to stand, something soft pressed against her nose.

A napkin. The a strange scent filled her senses causing her body to tense.

Her mind screamed in alarm, but it was too late. Her limbs became weak and the room spun all around her.

The last thing she heard was the faint rustling of fabric before everything went black.

Seeing that she, Amelia, had lost consciousness, the makeup artist calmly stepped out, closing the door behind her and walked up to the security guard standing stiffly by the door.

"It’s done."

The guard grunted, glancing past her into the room. "She out?"

The makeup artist nodded.

The security guard signaled another man, and together, they entered the dressing room and lifted Amelia’s unconscious body.

As they carried her through the back exit, one of them ran his fingers along her cheek.

"She’s even more beautiful up close," he muttered. "I can’t wait to have her."

The other chuckled darkly. "Careful. She’s expensive merchandise."

The makeup artist looked at them with disgust. "Remember, the client said to treat her with care. You are not to do the actual thing."

Their client’s request was a strange one, asking them to kidnap her and take videos making it seem like they had sex with her, but to actually do nothing to her. In fact, they were told to treat her with care and not harm a single strand of her hair. They were skeptical at first, but after being paid a huge amount, they quickly had no objections. Money was money, after all.

They stuffed her into a black car, shut the door, and drove away.

Outside, cameras flashed, microphones hovered, and reporters murmured impatiently.

"Where is Miss Amelia?" one reporter demanded. "Is she avoiding the interview?"

"Is this her way of escaping the allegations?" another sneered.

Damien stood before them, a forced smile on his face, but unease prickled at the back of his mind.

He glanced at his watch.

She should be out by now. What was going on?

Frowning, he turned to a PR team member. "Go check on her."

The woman nodded and hurried inside. Moments later, she returned, her face pale.

"Miss Amelia isn’t in the dressing room."

Damien’s expression darkened. "What do you mean she’s not there?"

"She’s gone. And so are the makeup artist and the bodyguard."

A chill rushed down Damien’s spine.

The press kept shouting questions, demanding answers but Damien barely spared them a glance before grabbing the mic.

"The press conference is canceled."

The reporters erupted in confusion. "What?! Why?!"

Damien didn’t even bother to explain, instead, he turned and stormed inside, heading straight to the dressing room.

When he flung open the door, the sight that greeted him made his stomach drop.

The chair was slightly pushed back. The makeup products were scattered.

"Amelia!" he called, rushing around the room. But there was no response.

He gritted his teeth, and his hands curled into fists. He turned to the Liavenne staff standing at the door, his voice dangerously low.

"Search the entire building. Now."

The staff began scrambling around, shouting her name.

Damien didn’t want his suspicions to be true, but indeed, it seemed that—

She had been kidnapped.

....

Damien’s hands shook as he dialed Kai’s number. He had managed to obtain it through his mother, who had requested it from Dan Blackwood.

Pick up. Pick up. Pick up.

The line connected.

"What?" Kai’s voice was calm, almost lazy.

Damien didn’t waste time. "Amelia’s been kidnapped."

Silence.

Then, a soft chuckle.

Damien’s blood ran cold.

"What the hell is funny?" he snapped.

Kai’s voice came through the receiver, amused as if Damien had just told him a particularly interesting joke. "Alright."

Click.

The call ended.

Damien stared at his phone in disbelief.

What the hell was that?

Kai placed his phone on the desk, his fingers tapping against the table rhythmically.

One. Two. Three.

It was a slow, deliberate pace.

Secretary Wen stood at a distance, rigid. He had seen many expressions on Kai’s face before, boredom, irritation, amusement, but this?

This was something else.

Kai exhaled, a small smile playing on his lips. "How interesting."

"Tell me, Wen," Kai mused. "Do you think she’s scared?"

Secretary Wen answered obediently, "Yes, Master, I do."

"That’s good then," Kai’s voice was soft. "Because if she’s scared, then that means she needs me."

Then there was silence. Kai stretched his fingers, rolling his wrist as if testing his flexibility. Then he glanced at Secretary Wen, who was standing quietly at his side.

"Tell me, Wen." His voice was almost conversational. "Do you think burning them alive would be too much?"

Wen stiffened.

Kai hummed, his hand on his chin as if in thought. "I’ve never killed someone that way before. But I hear the screams last longer."

He tilted his head, eyes gleaming with morbid curiosity. "Wouldn’t that be interesting?"

Secretary Wen swallowed hard.

He had seen many sides of Kai Blackwood. The cold businessman. The manipulative strategist. The charming liar.

But this? This was the part of him he feared the most. The sociopath behind that charming mask.

Wen forced himself to remain calm. "That would... send a strong message."

Kai chuckled. "Oh, Wen. You’re always so polite."

He took a step closer.

Wen resisted the urge to flinch.

Kai studied him, amusement in his eyes. "You’re scared."

It wasn’t a question. It was an observation. A fact.

Wen forced himself to keep his voice even. "I just think there are more... efficient ways, Sir."

Kai exhaled slowly, as if contemplating it. "Mm. You’re right." His lips curved in an almost boyish grin. "But where’s the fun in that?"

He stepped away, his eyes dark with delight.

"Let’s go, Wen."

Kai adjusted his cufflinks unhurriedly, but his eyes had a cold and dangerous glint.

"I think we need to introduce ourselves to the ones who dared touch what’s mine."