Rejected: A love story Chapter 126: Is she breathing?

Fiona’s stomach growled as she walked down the street, her backpack slung over one shoulder. She hadn’t eaten all day—Just the coffe she took at the bakery in the morning. Nathan had left in a rush that morning for a eting, and she’d been too distracted to grab a bite.

Spotting a small corner store ahead, she decided to grab so quick snack. She stepped inside, picked up a bag of chips and a bottle of soda, and paid at the counter.

As she walked out, she reached into her pocket for her phone. She was about to call Nathan, he had texted her but she hadn’t had ti to reply. She was about tapping on his contact when she heard the screech of tires.

She barely had ti to react before the car slamd into her, sending her flying through the air before she hit the ground hard. Everything went black imdiately.

People nearby scread and rushed toward her.

"Is she breathing?" soone asked.

"Call an ambulance!" another voice shouted.

The driver stepped out of the car, looking pale and frantic. He was dressed in a suit, his tie slightly loose, and his hands trembled as he ran them through his hair.

"I—I didn’t see her! She just stepped out!" he stamred. He crouched beside Fiona, brushing off a woman who tried to check her pulse. "She needs help now! I’ll take her to the hospital!"

Two n hesitated, glancing at each other. "Shouldn’t we wait for an ambulance?" one asked.

"There’s no ti!" the driver snapped. "She’s bleeding! Help get her in the car!"

The n reluctantly helped lift Fiona into the backseat. The driver slamd the door, jumped into the car, and sped off without taking her bag or phone, which lay abandoned on the pavent.

****************

Nathan sat at his desk, tapping his pen against a stack of papers. The eting earlier had been rushed, and he was barely able to focus. His thoughts kept drifting back to Fiona. She hadn’t answered his calls or texts all day, and that wasn’t like her.

He unlocked his phone again, scrolling through his ssages. Nothing new. He frowned, dialing her number one more ti. It rang and rang until voicemail picked up.

Nathan sighed and leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. Sothing felt off, but he told himself she was probably just busy or distracted. Maybe she had a long day at college.

#############

Natasha stood outside a secluded private clinic, her sharp gaze fixed on the black SUV as her n carefully pulled Fiona’s limp body out of the backseat. The clinic, hidden deep in the outskirts of town, was a place no one would think to look—a perfect choice for what Natasha had planned.

"Be gentle," she snapped at the n as they carried Fiona inside. "She’s no use to dead."

The n obeyed without hesitation.

Inside, the clinic was eerily quiet. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, casting a pale glow over the sterile white walls. The doctor Natasha had hired was already waiting, his tools ticulously laid out on a tal tray. He was an older man, with thin glasses perched on his nose and a calm deanor that suggested he’d done this sort of thing before.

"Put her on the table," Natasha ordered, her voice cold and commanding. She followed closely as her n set Fiona down on the operating table, her body limp and lifeless except for the faint rise and fall of her chest.

The doctor stepped forward, pulling on a pair of gloves. He examined Fiona’s head wound, his expression unreadable. "She’s lost a lot of blood," he said matter-of-factly. "I’ll need to stitch this up before we proceed. The injection won’t work properly if she’s not stabilized."

"Then do it," Natasha said sharply, crossing her arms. "I’m paying you enough to handle this. Just rember—once she wakes up, she can’t know who she is. She needs to forget everything."

The doctor nodded, picking up a syringe filled with a clear liquid. "This will keep her unconscious while I work. Once I’m done, I’ll administer the mory-erasing serum. She won’t even rember her na by the ti we’re finished."

Natasha smirked, her eyes narrowing as she watched the doctor inject Fiona. "Good," she said quietly. "That’s exactly what I need."

As the doctor began cleaning and stitching Fiona’s wound, Natasha turned to one of her n. "Burn any evidence we left behind. The car, her belongings—everything. Make sure there’s nothing that can trace her back to us."

The man nodded and left without a word. Natasha’s other n stood silently by the door, their hands resting on their weapons. They were ready for anything, but Natasha doubted they’d need to act. Everything was going according to plan.

She walked closer to the operating table, her heels clicking against the tiled floor. Fiona’s face was pale, bruised, and unrecognizable from the confident, fiery woman Natasha had always considered her rival.

"You always thought you were better than ," Natasha muttered under her breath, her voice dripping with disdain. "Always in my way, always trying to outshine . Well, not anymore. By the ti I’m done with you, you’ll be nothing but a blank slate. Viktoria’s replacent. And no one will even know the difference."

The doctor finished stitching Fiona’s wound and wiped his hands on a towel. "She’s stable now," he said. "I’ll administer the serum. It’ll take a few hours to fully erase her mory, but she won’t be conscious for any of it."

"Perfect," Natasha said, her lips curling into a satisfied smile. "Make sure it works. If there’s even a chance she rembers who she is, it’ll be your head on the line."

The doctor didn’t flinch. He picked up another syringe, this one filled with a faintly glowing blue liquid, and injected it into Fiona’s arm.

Natasha watched closely, her expression unreadable. This was the mont she’d been waiting for. Fiona, her biggest obstacle, was finally out of the picture.

"Get her in the car," Natasha said after a mont. "We’ll take her to the facility as soon as the serum takes effect. And make sure she doesn’t wake up before we get there."

The n moved quickly, lifting Fiona’s body off the table and carrying her back to the SUV. Natasha followed them outside, the cold night air biting at her skin. She climbed into the passenger seat, glancing back at Fiona’s unconscious form in the rear.

"Drive," she ordered the driver. "We’re done here."

The SUV pulled out of the clinic’s driveway.