Page 17 of Pregnant By A Rich Demon 2
I sat up straight.
“Raven.”
“Hmm?”
“Who’s in your car?”
She glanced up, confused. “What?”
“Your car.” I pointed toward the window. “It’s leaving.”
Raven’s head whipped around so fast I heard her neck crack.
“What the fuck?—”
She dropped the comb and bolted for the door.
I scrambled out of the chair and followed her, my heart pounding.
By the time we got outside, the Tesla was already halfway down the block, moving at a steady fifteen miles per hour, completely driverless.
“No, no, no, no, no—” Raven was running after it, her braids flying behind her, her voice rising with every step. “Come back! COME BACK!”
The car didn’t stop.
It turned the corner with eerie precision and disappeared from view.
Raven stopped in the middle of the street, breathing hard, staring at the empty space where her car had been.
“What the hell just happened?” I asked, catching up to her.
She didn’t answer.
Just pulled out her phone with shaking hands and dialed.
I stood there, watching her face cycle through disbelief, anger, and something that looked dangerously close to despair.
“Yes, this is Raven Renois,” she said into the phone, her voice tight. “My car just drove itself away from my salon, and I need to know?—”
She stopped.
Listened.
Her face dropped.
“A repo?” Her voice cracked. “You can’t just… I didn’t even get a warning…”
More listening.
“I’m behind on my payment?” She laughed, a bitter, broken sound. “I know how far behind I am. I’m asking how you can just take my car without?—”
She stopped again.
Closed her eyes.
“Fine,” she said finally. “Fine. Where do I pick it up?”
She ended the call and stood there for a long moment, staring at her phone like it had personally betrayed her.
