CHAPTER 4: IF DEATH COMES
1452 Words
(Kay’s POV)
This afternoon felt like one of those moments.
Those moments in a man’s life when everything feels aligned.
When the world, for once, seems to move in rhythm with him.
I had been waiting for it.
Not the deal. Not the meetings. Not even the quiet tension that had settled between Aisha and me over the past weeks.
This, yes, the car.
I feel like Aisha is on to something with Kirby's project. She does not see it as a positive project that will yield favourable results, but at least she may love this car.
I did not test drive the car when I ordered it, but right now I am ready to go testing.
It sat outside like a statement. It was sleek, unapologetic, and engineered to command attention without begging for it. The body curved with precision, every line deliberate, every angle reflecting light like it had been designed to be admired. Deep obsidian black, polished to a mirror finish, it carried a presence that didn’t need introduction.
I stepped toward it slowly, my hand brushing lightly over the surface. It was cool, smooth and perfect.
“This,” I said quietly, more to myself than to anyone else, “is what control feels like.”
Behind me, I heard Aisha’s footsteps pause.
She didn’t rush closer like she usually would. Didn’t circle it with curiosity or admiration.
Instead, she stood back.
Observing and judging.
“How much?” she asked.
I smiled faintly.
“That’s the first thing you say?”
She folded her arms slightly, her expression steady. “Yes.”
I turned to look at her.
There it was again, that sharpness in her eyes. Not just intelligence. Resistance.
I named a figure.
She didn’t react immediately.
But I saw it.
The shift in her expression. The quiet disbelief she didn’t bother to hide.
“Kay…” she exhaled. “That’s unnecessary.”
“It’s not,” I replied calmly.
“It is,” she insisted, stepping closer now. “You already have cars. More than enough. What exactly is this supposed to prove?”
I held her gaze.
“Nothing,” I said.
But we both knew that wasn’t true.
Everything I owned proved something.
To the world.
To my competitors.
To myself.
I walked to the driver’s side and opened the door. The interior was just as flawless as the exterior, rich leather, precision detailing, the faint scent of something new, untouched, waiting.
“Get in,” I said.
She didn’t move.
“I’m serious,” she said. “You don’t need to do this today.”
I leaned slightly against the door, watching her.
“And why not?”
Her hesitation was brief.
Then she said it.
“Because of what happened before.”
Silence.
For a second.
Just a second.
But enough.
I straightened.
“That was different,” I said.
“Was it?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“How?”
I didn’t answer immediately.
Because there was no answer she would accept.
“Get in, Aisha,” I said finally.
"I may need to change, cannot go out with no pants or bra on. Come on, Kay," she smiled, shaking her head as if to let me know I was acting weird.
"Get in," I said, it was like a whisper but a command.
She held my gaze a moment longer.
Then, slowly…
She did.
The engine came alive with a low, controlled growl.
Not loud.
Not aggressive.
Just… powerful.
I felt it immediately, the response, the precision, and the way the machine seemed to understand intention before I even acted on it.
This was why I did it.
Not for show.
For feeling.
For control.
We pulled out smoothly, the estate fading behind us as the road opened ahead.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
The city stretched out, familiar but distant, as I pushed the car forward, testing its response, its balance, its limits.
It handled perfectly.
Better than I expected.
“Kay,” Aisha said quietly.
I didn’t look at her.
“Relax,” I replied.
“I am relaxed.”
“No, you’re not.”
She exhaled, shifting slightly in her seat.
“You’re pushing it.”
“I’m driving it,” I corrected.
“You’re testing it,” she said.
A faint smile touched my lips.
“Of course I am.”
“That’s exactly the problem.”
I glanced at her briefly.
“You don’t trust me?”
“It’s not about trust,” she said.
“It never is,” I muttered.
The road ahead curved slightly.
Nothing unusual.
Nothing dangerous.
I adjusted the wheel, maintaining speed, feeling the car respond effortlessly beneath me.
Then!
Something changed.
It was subtle.
Almost imperceptible.
At first.
A slight resistance.
A hesitation in the steering.
I frowned slightly, adjusting my grip.
“Did you feel that?” Aisha asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“It’s nothing.”
But it wasn’t nothing.
The next second proved it.
The steering tightened.
Then jerked.
Not violently, but enough.
Enough to break rhythm.
My focus sharpened instantly.
I adjusted again, compensating, trying to regain full control.
“Kay,” Aisha said, her voice tighter now.
“I’ve got it.”
The car responded, but not cleanly.
Not smoothly.
Something was wrong.
The wheel resisted again.
Harder this time.
Then—
It locked.
Everything after that happened too fast.
And too slow.
At the same time.
The car veered.
Sharp and uncontrolled.
I reacted immediately, forcing the wheel, trying to correct the angle, but the system wasn’t responding the way it should.
“Kay—!”
I hit the brakes.
Too hard.
The tyres screamed against the road, the sound tearing through the air as the car skidded sideways, momentum dragging us off course.
The world tilted.
Shifted.
Collapsed into motion.
Glass shattered.
Metal twisted.
Impact.
The force slammed into me, crushing the breath from my lungs as everything exploded into chaos. There was a certain sound, pressure, and later darkness.
For a moment…
Nothing existed.
Then—
Pain.
Distant.
Muted.
Like it belonged to someone else.
I opened my eyes.
Slowly.
The world came back in fragments.
Broken glass.
Smoke.
The sharp scent of something burning.
My head throbbed, my vision blurred, but I forced myself to focus.
“Aisha.”
No response.
I turned my head.
She was there.
Still.
Too still.
Trapped.
The frame of the car had collapsed inward, pinning her.
“Aisha,” I said again, louder this time.
Still nothing.
Something cold settled in my chest.
No.
No.
I forced myself to move.
Pain shot through me instantly, sharp and unrelenting, but I ignored it. It didn’t matter.
Nothing mattered except her.
I pushed against the wreckage, trying to shift the metal, to create space, to reach her.
It didn’t move.
I tried again.
Harder.
My hands slipped against the twisted frame, blood I didn’t remember spilling coating my grip.
“Come on,” I muttered, forcing strength into limbs that didn’t want to respond.
The car groaned.
A warning.
I ignored it.
“Aisha, wake up,” I said, my voice rough now.
Nothing. She was not responding.
I braced myself and pulled again.
The metal shifted slightly.
Just enough.
Hope rose within me.
A dangerous and immediate one.
I leaned in further, reaching for her, trying to free her, to pull her out—
The structure above us cracked.
Loud, violent and final.
And then—
Everything came down.
The weight crushed into me before I could react fully.
I felt it.
The impact.
The pressure.
The impossible force pinning me in place.
A sharp, blinding pain shot through my lower body, tearing through me in a way that stole the air from my lungs.
I couldn’t move.
Couldn’t breathe properly.
But my eyes—
My eyes found her.
Still there.
Still within reach.
Maybe she is still alive.
Because she had to be.
Heat surged suddenly.
Too fast.
Too intense.
The smell of fuel igniting filled the air.
Fire.
No.
Not now.
Not like this.
I am not going down like this.
My gaze flew back to Aisha.
I pushed.
Or tried to.
My body didn’t respond the way it should.
But I didn’t stop.
I couldn’t.
Not with her there.
Not with everything still unfinished.
“Aisha…” I said, my voice barely there now.
The flames crept closer.
The world blurred.
The pain faded into something distant.
But my focus didn’t.
It stayed on her.
Always her.
If this was the end—
Then at least I knew one thing.
I didn’t let go.
Even when everything else did.
And then—
Everything went dark.
- Writer
