Anita's POV
You know, I always thought if I ever died, it'd be… dramatic.
Some grand moment where everything slowed down, people gathered around me, maybe a few last words, a tearful goodbye—like in the movies. I used to imagine the headlines. My name trending. Family crying. Friends devastated. Employees shocked.
The world would know I was gone.
But damn it—I'm dying, and it isn't a beautiful feeling.
So if this is really it... then at least let me tell you how I got here. Maybe it'll make sense. Maybe it won't. Either way, you deserve to know the whole story.
---
Some Hours Ago...
I woke up like I always did—quick shower, dressed sharp.
While staring into the mirror, I caught a glimpse of myself:
Snow-white skin, long black hair, dark green eyes i was a one of a kind beauty .no cap
I grabbed my keys, headed down the stairs, and walked into the garage.
The lights flickered on automatically, revealing my silver Mercedes-Benz gleaming under the soft white glow. I slipped in, started the engine, and pulled out.
Another day. Another drive to Nexora—the biggest interior design, architecture, construction, and IT company in the U.S.
My empire. My pride. My joy. Built from the ground up. By me.
As I pulled into the private parking lot, the gate hummed open, security already recognizing my car. I stepped out and was immediately greeted with warm smiles and polite nods.
I nodded back, keeping it professional but kind. That was me. Boss, not tyrant.
Inside, I headed straight to the private elevator. Only I had access to it.
Just as it started to rise, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the caller ID—and felt a headache pound behind my eyes.
It had to be her.
Still, I picked up. I always did.
"Hey, Mom," I sighed.
"Sweetie! How are you doing?"
I'm fine. How's Dad?"
"He's good, but listen—I didn't call to chat. Actually—"
I cut her off with another sigh. I already knew where this was going.
"Mom, why did you call? I'm really busy."
"Baby, when are you going to settle down? You're 29. You're not getting any younger."
I groaned. "Mum, I'm still young enough."
"No, you're not! You're turning 30 this year. I want to hold my grandchildren while I still have knees that work! When are you bringing a boy home?"
"Well, you could always give me a brother," I muttered.
She ignored that completely.
"I've already set you up."
"What?! Well, that's only if I'm free—"
"I told your secretary to clear your schedule. It's tomorrow."
"Ugh, Mom—!"
I love you too, darling."
Click.
She ended the call before I could even start complaining. Classic Mom.
I let out a tired sigh, rubbing my temples.
All this pressure, this attention… things would've been different if there was someone else to share the spotlight. Or the burden.
But there wasn't. So I pushed the thought aside, took a breath, and walked out of the elevator.
---
Later that evening, it was already 9:38 p.m. The day had dragged long enough, so I headed home. My car crept through the glowing city, lights blurringacross my windows, the skyline sparkling in the distance.
Finally, my penthouse came into view.
Grey and gold tones greeted me as I walked in. Slick. Modern. Elegant.
This was home.
I kicked off my heels, placed them neatly on the shelf, and headed straight for the bathroom. The warm shower washed off the weight of the day.
Under the stream, my mind wandered.
Honestly? Even if I don't show it ....I'm a hopeless romantic.
But I've learned to be cautious. Too many men only saw my wealth—or my body.
It became hard to trust when love felt like a transaction.
Still... I believed in it.
Real love.
True love.
Success? I have that already. I built it. But even with everything I've achieved, there's still a part of me that wants more.
Something real.
I turned off the shower and stepped into the cool air of my penthouse.
After drying off, I threw on a simple black top and white shorts, tying my hair up in a ponytail.
Comfortable. Quiet. Just how I liked my nights.
I walked to the fridge, hoping to grab something to munch on.
Empty. Of course.
I sighed and closed the door with a soft thud. I'd forgotten to stop by the grocery store. Again.
I reached for my keys, thinking I'd drive... but the store wasn't far.
A short walk might be good for me anyway.
The road was quiet.
My steps soft. The evening breeze lifting strands of my hair.
It felt peaceful—
Until I saw a black cat.
It crossed the street with regal grace, pausing to stare at me with glowing golden eyes.
For a moment, we held that strange, silent connection.
Then—
The car.
It came speeding around the corner.
Too fast. Way too fast.
I didn't think.
I darted into the street and scooped the cat into my arms—
Pain exploded in my chest.
The impact sent me tumbling across the asphalt, my hair fanning out like dark flames. My head throbbed. Vision blurred.
I tried to move—to check on the cat—but the agony pinned me down.
Through the haze, I saw it.
That little creature, trembling in my arms, its golden eyes filled with worry.
A strange, crown-shaped mark gleamed on its forehead.
I let out a weak laugh.
Of all the ways to go...
This was almost absurd.
Killed by a car? Wow. That's messed up.
And just like that—
I slipped into the dark.
A deep dreamless slumber
> "Okay but be honest… would YOU have saved the cat? 🐈⬛😭 Or just kept walking?"
I feel like Anita was not prepared to go from CEO to street pancake that fast 😩
Lemme know your thoughts! And who else thinks that cat lowkey knew what it was doing