When The Tesla Called

When The Tesla Called

Superstition

5.0
Comment(s)
381
View
11
Chapters

The automated call from the Tesla came at 10 PM, shattering the illusion of my perfect life with Ryan. "A collision has been detected. The registered owner, Ryan Scott, may be unresponsive." I rushed to the ER, dread gripping my heart, only to find him on a gurney, pale and sweaty. But he wasn't alone; Sylvia, his brother's widow, was clutching his hand, looking disheveled and frantic. Then, my childhood friend, Dr. Andrew Lester, delivered the chilling truth: "There was no collision. Mr. Scott experienced... an acute allergic reaction. Anaphylaxis." A severe latex allergy, exacerbated by "strenuous physical activity." The words hung in the air, heavy and obscene; the pieces clicked into place with sickening finality. It wasn't a car crash. It was sex. In his car. For seven years, I had downplayed my family's wealth, my education, my ambitions, all to prop up the myth of the "self-made" Ryan Scott. For this? His blatant lies the next morning, about "bad shellfish" and needing me to pick up his impounded Tesla, were a cruel joke. The car reeked of stale champagne and cheap perfume, brazenly displaying a high-heeled shoe and a torn silk blouse; his contempt for me was physically manifested. But their sick game was about to change. When Andrew, my childhood friend, quietly appeared at the impound lot, I made my decision. "The marriage. With your family. I told my father yes." My path was set: cold, clear, and utterly decisive.

When The Tesla Called Introduction

The automated call from the Tesla came at 10 PM, shattering the illusion of my perfect life with Ryan.

"A collision has been detected. The registered owner, Ryan Scott, may be unresponsive."

I rushed to the ER, dread gripping my heart, only to find him on a gurney, pale and sweaty.

But he wasn't alone; Sylvia, his brother's widow, was clutching his hand, looking disheveled and frantic.

Then, my childhood friend, Dr. Andrew Lester, delivered the chilling truth: "There was no collision. Mr. Scott experienced... an acute allergic reaction. Anaphylaxis."

A severe latex allergy, exacerbated by "strenuous physical activity."

The words hung in the air, heavy and obscene; the pieces clicked into place with sickening finality.

It wasn't a car crash.

It was sex.

In his car.

For seven years, I had downplayed my family's wealth, my education, my ambitions, all to prop up the myth of the "self-made" Ryan Scott.

For this?

His blatant lies the next morning, about "bad shellfish" and needing me to pick up his impounded Tesla, were a cruel joke.

The car reeked of stale champagne and cheap perfume, brazenly displaying a high-heeled shoe and a torn silk blouse; his contempt for me was physically manifested.

But their sick game was about to change.

When Andrew, my childhood friend, quietly appeared at the impound lot, I made my decision.

"The marriage. With your family. I told my father yes."

My path was set: cold, clear, and utterly decisive.

Continue Reading

Other books by Superstition

More

You'll also like

The Discarded Heiress: Marrying My Lethal Husband

The Discarded Heiress: Marrying My Lethal Husband

Xiao Wang
5.0

The rain in Detroit was slick with grime when my family finally came to fetch me. They didn't want a reunion; they wanted a sacrificial lamb to marry into the Kaufman empire to save their failing business. I thought I was just being sold off, but the limo ride ended under a dark overpass where six hired thugs were waiting with chains. My own sister had ordered them to "break my spirit" so I’d be a shaking, pathetic mess by the time I reached the altar. They called me "Detroit trash" and sprayed air freshener when I sat on their leather seats. My stepmother wanted a video of me begging for my life, and my father was ready to trade me like a used car to a man everyone called a "vegetable." They expected a submissive country girl, unaware that I was a high-level "cleaner" who could snap a radius bone before they could even scream. When I finally reached the Kaufman estate, I found my fiancé, Barron, slumped in a wheelchair, drooling and silent. But as soon as the doors closed, the "invalid" grabbed my wrist with a grip of iron and whispered a command that changed everything. I didn't understand why my own blood was so desperate to see me destroyed. What had I ever done to deserve a hit squad and a forced marriage to a man they thought was a corpse? But Barron isn't a vegetable, and I'm not a victim. We just touched down at the Moon family gala in a matte-black helicopter, and as the doors slide open, the "broken" bride is about to show them exactly what happens when you throw away the wrong daughter. "If we're going to crash a party," Barron whispered, his eyes burning with lethal clarity, "we should make an entrance."

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book
When The Tesla Called When The Tesla Called Superstition Romance
“The automated call from the Tesla came at 10 PM, shattering the illusion of my perfect life with Ryan. "A collision has been detected. The registered owner, Ryan Scott, may be unresponsive." I rushed to the ER, dread gripping my heart, only to find him on a gurney, pale and sweaty. But he wasn't alone; Sylvia, his brother's widow, was clutching his hand, looking disheveled and frantic. Then, my childhood friend, Dr. Andrew Lester, delivered the chilling truth: "There was no collision. Mr. Scott experienced... an acute allergic reaction. Anaphylaxis." A severe latex allergy, exacerbated by "strenuous physical activity." The words hung in the air, heavy and obscene; the pieces clicked into place with sickening finality. It wasn't a car crash. It was sex. In his car. For seven years, I had downplayed my family's wealth, my education, my ambitions, all to prop up the myth of the "self-made" Ryan Scott. For this? His blatant lies the next morning, about "bad shellfish" and needing me to pick up his impounded Tesla, were a cruel joke. The car reeked of stale champagne and cheap perfume, brazenly displaying a high-heeled shoe and a torn silk blouse; his contempt for me was physically manifested. But their sick game was about to change. When Andrew, my childhood friend, quietly appeared at the impound lot, I made my decision. "The marriage. With your family. I told my father yes." My path was set: cold, clear, and utterly decisive.”
1

Introduction

26/06/2025

2

Chapter 1

26/06/2025

3

Chapter 2

26/06/2025

4

Chapter 3

26/06/2025

5

Chapter 4

26/06/2025

6

Chapter 5

26/06/2025

7

Chapter 6

26/06/2025

8

Chapter 7

26/06/2025

9

Chapter 8

26/06/2025

10

Chapter 9

26/06/2025

11

Chapter 10

26/06/2025