Chapter 3The Billionaire Paid a Fortune for My Cursed Diary

"Tina, you really are something," Florence said, her eyes filled with malice as she blew a puff of cigarette smoke toward me. "You turn my brother into a lunatic, and then you try to run?"

"I didn't do anything to him! He stole my diary!" I spat back.

"Save it! My brother is in the psychiatric ICU, and my mother is undergoing emergency surgery. How are you going to settle that debt?"

She took another drag of her cigarette.

"Sinclair made an offer. Hand over the book, and our family gets a ten percent cut of the reward. That's more than enough for us to live like royalty for the rest of our lives."

"Are you all insane? You won't live long enough to spend a single cent of that money!"

I couldn't believe they were still thinking about the reward.

Florence swung her hand back, her palm striking my face. The impact split my lip, and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.

"Stop acting so pure. If you hadn't brought that cursed book into our lives, none of this would have happened. You are giving us that diary tonight!"

The van screeched to a halt, parking in the flooded basement of an abandoned, half-finished high-rise.

I was dragged out of the vehicle and tossed onto the wet concrete.

Florence’s heels clicked against the stone as she walked over, grabbing my hair to force my head back.

"Search her!"

The two men stepped forward, tearing at my coat.

"Get off me!"

I fought like an animal, sinking my teeth deep into one man's wrist.

He cried out in pain, bringing his fist down hard against my temple.

My head spun, the world turning pitch black for a few seconds as the strength drained from my limbs.

They pulled the diary from my shirt, handing it respectfully to Florence.

"Finally..."

Florence stared at the book, her eyes shining with greed.

"Florence... don't open it... I'm begging you..." I whispered from the wet ground, my vision blurring.

"A hundred million dollars... just for one look..."

She didn't hear me. Her finger was already slipping under the leather cover.

Before she could open it, the entrance of the garage lit up with a dozen high-beam headlights.

A line of luxury sedans drove in, surrounding us in a tight circle.

Adam Sinclair’s guards stepped out of the vehicles, all of them carrying firearms.

"Miss Zhou, taking things that don't belong to you carries a very high price," Adam said, his wheelchair being pushed forward by a guard.

Florence trembled, nearly dropping the book.

"Mr. Sinclair... I was just preparing to bring it to you..." she stammered, offering the diary with both hands.

I closed my eyes in absolute despair.

It was over.

If the diary fell into the hands of a powerful, ruthless man like Adam Sinclair, the consequences would be unimaginable.

But as Florence stepped forward, her eyes locked onto the cover.

"Wait... it's moving..." she whispered, her voice shaking.

Adam frowned, his voice cold. "Bring it here!"

Florence didn't move. Her fingers began to slide across the cover, completely out of her control.

"It's breathing... there's something inside trying to get out..."

With a sudden, sharp motion, she flipped the diary open to the very first page.

"Don't look!" I screamed, my throat raw.

Florence’s gaze locked onto the open page.

She stood perfectly still, holding the diary, completely frozen.

"Miss Zhou?"

Adam sensed something was wrong, his eyes narrowing.

The whites of Florence’s eyes slowly vanished, her pupils dilating until her eyes were nothing but two empty pools of pitch black.

"So... that's what it is."