The Girl Who Could See Death

The Trap

Elara

One touch. That was all it took for the floodgates to burst. The vision slammed into me; it lasted only a second, but felt like an eternity. Then, as fast as it had arrived, the darkness retreated, leaving me trembling under his steady, predatory stare.

“You saw it again,” he said softly.

My chest rose and fell rapidly.

“No.”

“You’re shaking.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

A man from behind him finally spoke from the doorway.

“Sir, perhaps we could use a different approach.”

Mr. Thorne didn’t look away from me.

“What do you suggest?”

“Take her with us.”

My stomach dropped.

“No.”

“I agree.”

Panic surged through me.

“You can’t just kidnap someone!”

“Yes,” Mr. Thorne said calmly. “I can.”

The man pushed away from the wall.

“I’ll get the car.”

Men, who looked more like statues than humans, appeared behind him. They didn't hurt me, but their grip was like iron, guiding me out of my apartment and into the back of the car waiting below.

Now, I sat across from him in a space that felt less like a vehicle and more like a private lounge. The tinted glass blocked out the city, leaving us in a vacuum of luxury.

“Where are you taking me, Mr. Thorne?” I asked, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to stay composed. “You can’t just remove people from their homes. This is kidnapping.”

Reid Thorne didn’t even look up from the phone in his hand. He looked perfectly at ease, as if abducting a bookstore clerk was just another item on his morning to-do list.

“k********g is such a vulgar term, Elara,” he said, his voice smooth and terrifyingly calm. “I prefer to think of it as an urgent relocation for the purpose of a private consultation.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“On the contrary,” he said, finally lifting his dark eyes to mine. The intensity in them was suffocating. “You have everything to say. I’ve spent millions building an empire on the ability to predict market shifts. And here you are, a girl who doesn’t need algorithms because she sees the finish line before the race even starts.”

He leaned forward, the motion predatory. “Tell me how it works. Is it a feeling? A sound? Or do you just see the reaper standing behind them?”

I pulled my hands into my lap, squeezing them together. “It’s not a game, Mr. Thorne. It’s a curse.”

“A curse is just a gift that hasn’t been monetized yet,” he countered. “Tell me the truth right now. Or we don’t stop this car until we’re at my private estate three states away, and I promise you, the security there is much harder to bypass than your landlord.”

The threat was clear. He wasn't playing. He was a man who took what he wanted, and right now, he wanted my soul laid bare.

I took a shuddering breath, the air in the car suddenly feeling too thin. “It’s the touch,” I whispered.

Reid went perfectly still. “The touch?”

“I don't just 'see' things,” I said, tears prickling my eyes as the weight of the secret finally broke me. “When my skin brushes against someone else’s, I see their end. I see the moment their heart stops. I see the blood, the fire, the quiet hospital rooms. I see how they leave this world.”

I looked at my hands, the tools of my torment. “That’s why I don’t shake hands. That’s why I stay away from crowds. Because I am tired of knowing the date everyone dies.”

The silence between us was heavy and thick. I expected him to laugh. I expected him to call me insane and dump me on the side of the road. He didn't look shocked; if anything, he looked interested. He looked… hungry.

“And when I grabbed your wrist in the bookstore?” he asked, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous vibration. “What did you see then, Elara? Did you see me on a cooling board?”

I shook my head, my breath hitching in my throat. “No.”

“Then what?” He reached out, his hand hovering over the space between us, a silent invitation and a command all at once. “If you didn’t see my death, why did you look at me like I was the devil himself?”

I looked up at him, my vision blurred by tears. “Because I didn’t see your death, Mr. Thorne.”

I swallowed hard, the final confession tasting like ash.

“I saw mine. I saw myself dying in your arms, covered in blood, while you watched me go. I'm not afraid of you because you're a monster. I'm afraid of you because you’re the last thing I’ll ever see.”

His expression didn't soften. If anything, his eyes darkened with an obsessive, terrifying light. He didn't pull his hand away. Instead, he moved faster than I could react, his fingers closing firmly around my hand.

I gasped, bracing for the vision to hit me again, the rain, the blood, the pain, but as his skin met mine, the world didn't turn to red.

Instead, a completely different vision slammed into my mind. I saw a bedroom I didn't recognize. I saw the sun rising over a private beach. And I saw myself, older, laughing as Reid Thorne leaned down to kiss me, his touch full of a tenderness that didn't exist in the man sitting before me.

The vision shattered, leaving me gasping for air as I stared at him in shock. Reid didn't let go. His grip tightened, his thumb brushing over my knuckles in a slow, possessive rhythm.

“You look surprised, Elara,” he whispered, his face inches from mine. “What did you see this time?”

I couldn't find the words. The future had just changed. Or maybe, it had just shown me its teeth.

“I saw…” I started, but my voice failed me.

He leaned closer, his breath hot against my lips. “Whatever it was, remember this: I don't believe in fate. I will rewrite it. And if you’ve seen your death in my arms, then I’ll just have to make sure you never leave them.”

Suddenly, the car screeched to a halt. The door was pulled open from the outside, but it wasn't the charcoal-suited guards.

It was a man with a jagged scar across his face, holding a suppressed pistol aimed directly at Mr. Thorne’s head.

“Out of the car, Thorne,” the stranger growled. “Both of you, now.”