The Jilted Heiress's Ruthless Return To Power

The rusted Ford rattled violently as Gus pressed the gas. Dakota felt the vibrations through the floorboards and up into her boots. The car pulled away from the curb outside the Walton estate. Up on the second-floor balcony, Erling and Brande stood side by side. Erling held a pair of black binoculars. Brande let out a sharp, loud laugh. “Look at that piece of junk. Even our gardeners drive better. She’s right where she belongs.” Erling lowered the binoculars, a cruel smirk on his lips. “She’ll rot in the slums. She’ll beg to come back in a week.” Cindy walked onto the balcony, pressing an ice pack to her swollen cheek. She stared at the trail of black smoke. Her chest heaved with vindictive pleasure. Inside the car, Dakota grabbed the plastic handle above the door frame. The vehicle bounced hard over a pothole. Gus gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white. He kept glancing at Dakota in the rearview mirror, his face flushed. “I’m so sorry, Miss.” He coughed. The smell of burning oil filled the cabin. “The car we arranged broke down on the highway. I had to rent this from a used lot just to get to you on time.” Dakota looked at the cracked dashboard. She gave a small nod. “It’s fine,” she said. Her voice was calm. She didn’t complain. Gus blinked. He’d expected the young lady to scream at him. Her silence made him grip the wheel tighter. The Ford merged onto a tree-lined highway heading toward the city. The speedometer needle shook as it climbed to forty miles per hour. A loud pop sounded under the hood. A thick cloud of white steam exploded from the front grill. It plastered against the windshield, blinding them. The car jerked. Every red warning light on the dashboard flashed. A high-pitched alarm shrieked. Gus slammed the brake and yanked the wheel to the right. Tires skidded on asphalt. The car bumped over the shoulder and rolled to a dead stop under a large oak tree. The engine died. Gus ripped off his seatbelt and shoved his door open. He ran to the front. A wave of hot steam hit him in the face. He coughed violently, waving his arms. Dakota pushed her door open and stepped onto the grass. She walked to the front, standing upwind. Gus peered under the hood. His shoulders slumped. He turned to her. “The radiator blew,” he said. “It’s completely dead.” Dakota looked up and down the empty highway. Trees lined both sides. No buildings in sight. “How far are we from the city?” she asked. Gus wiped grease off his cheek. “Too far to walk. No cabs out here. A tow truck will take three hours.” He bit his bottom lip and looked down the road. “There’s a luxury auto dealership just around the corner. Less than half a mile. I’ll run there and buy a new car. I’ll be right back.” Dakota paused. Most people would say they were going to call a car. He said he was going to buy one. She didn’t question him. “I’ll wait here,” she said. “Be careful.” Gus bowed his head repeatedly and sprinted down the edge of the highway. Dakota stood alone next to the smoking vehicle. She grabbed her canvas backpack from the passenger seat and set it on the hood. She unzipped the side pocket and pulled out a plastic water bottle. She twisted the cap off and took a slow drink. A sudden, aggressive screech of tires tore through the quiet air. It came from the sharp curve just up the road. A woman’s terrified scream followed.