Rewrite the Apocalypse dream (by Dee Cari) novel Chapter 66

Chapter 66 The rich guy is a soft target

Finished

Jonna’s eyes snapped open. She slid off the bed like a ghost, pressing her back against the wall next to the window. Peeking through the cracked plastic blinds, she spotted the greasy clerk standing under the dim walkway light, flanked by two burly thugs carrying iron pipes.

“The rich guy is a soft target,” the clerk’s muffled voice carried through the thin glass. “Take him out, grab his cash, and we can have some real fun with the girl before we dump them in the ravine.”

A cold smile spread across Joanna’s face. She glided back to the bed and firmly pressed her hand over Julian’s mouth. His dark eyes instantly opened, completely alert and deadly, lacking any trace of sleep. He nodded once, sliding out of the sheets with predatory silence.

Click. The door lock gave way under a master key. The door swung open, casting a long shaft of light from the storm into the dark room. The first thug stepped inside-only to be met with a devastating, lightning- fast strike.

Joanna lunged forward, her newly awakened physical strength exploding as she grabbed the thug’s wrist. With a sickening crunch, she shattered his forearm, tearing the iron pipe from his grip. Before the man could shriek, she drove her elbow straight into his sternum, sending him crashing backward.

The second thug gasped, but Julian was already moving with terrifying, military-grade efficiency. He ducked beneath a wild swing, stepped into the man’s guard, and delivered a brutal, calculated combination to the ribs and jaw. The thug stumbled, and Julian caught him by the throat, slamming him violently against the concrete wall until his eyes rolled back.

The greasy clerk stood in the doorway, his jaw dropped in absolute horror. He turned to run, but Joanna blurred forward, dragging him back into the room and tossing him onto the floor.

“Talk,” Julian commanded. His voice was a low, terrifying whisper as he pressed his designer boot firmly against the clerk’s windpipe, cutting off his air just enough to induce pure panic.

“I-I swear! We don’t get travelers up here anymore!” the clerk wheezed, tears leaking from his eyes. “The town is dying. When I saw your watch and that car, I thought… I thought it was a chance to cut my losses and get out of here. Please, don’t kill me!”

“Pathetic liar,” Joanna muttered.

With practiced efficiency, they used thick nylon ropes to bind the clerk and his thugs tightly to the bedframe, gagging them thoroughly. Joanna slipped down to the front office, quickly erasing the security logs, formatting the hard drives, and destroying the guest ledger to ensure they couldn’t be traced.

They abandoned the motel immediately, plunging back into the raging downpour. Julian expertly navigated the truck down a narrow, unpaved logging trail, killing the headlights and rolling the armored machine deep into a hidden thicket of towering pines.

The rain drummed a heavy rhythm against the reinforced roof. Reclining his seat just a fraction, Julian turned his head toward Joanna, his expression sharp, calculating, and completely serious. The cold, ruthless energy of the brawl still radiated from him.

Joanna, however, felt a sudden rush of dark satisfaction. Seeing how flawlessly the intimidating billionaire had handled himself made her chest lighten. She turned to him, a teasing smirk dancing on her lips.

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Chapter 66 The rich guy is a soft target

Finished

“Well, Mr. Hawthorne,” Joanna teased, her tone cutting through the suffocating silence. “I have to admit, your form back there wasn’t entirely terrible for a corporate suit. Though I’m starting to think I only

ought you along as heavy lifting.”

Julian didn’t smile, but the corner of his jaw relaxed slightly. His dark eyes locked onto hers, holding her gaze with an intense, unyielding gravity. “My form is precise, Joanna. I don’t waste movements. In the boardroom or a back-alley brawl, the objective remains the same: absolute elimination of the threat.”

The mood in the cabin lightened just a fraction, the heavy gridlock of their silence breaking, though the undercurrent of danger remained.

“Right, right. Spoken like a true CEO,” Joanna grumbled playfully, though she quickly turned her eyes back to the radar updates flickering on her phone to mask the sudden, sharp pull she felt toward his dangerous aura. “Just try not to get yourself killed by low-rent highwaymen before the lightning strike. My timeline needs you intact. Go to sleep.”

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