Chapter 1

I took the fall for Richard Grant's beloved, Julia Evans, and spent 1,095 days behind bars.

The deal was simple: my father's surgery and 3 million dollars for me.

But the day I was released, all I got was a bank card with only thirty grand in it.

I called the hospital to ask about my dad.

"Mr. David Lane? He passed away a year ago," the nurse said. "His medical bills were never paid, and we've kept his things for you."

The phone slipped from my hand.

Just then, I saw Richard step out of a Bentley.

Julia clung to his arm, her smile blinding. "Zelda, you've had a rough three years."

Richard handed me a contract printed in gold letters, his face unreadable.

"Sign it. Be my chief lawyer," he said coldly. "Everything I own, good and bad, is yours to handle."

I lifted my hand, rough and calloused from years in prison, and brushed my fingertips over the words "Chief Counsel" on the contract.

A slow smile spread across my face.

Fine, Richard. Your very lifeblood was mine now.

I'd drag you into the hell I crawled out of.

*****

The prison gates slammed shut behind me, the heavy echo like the epitaph of my last three years.

The sun was blinding. I raised a hand to block it.

My palm was rough and calloused, and no matter how much I scrubbed, the dirt never really washed out from under my nails.

My hands used to draft the sharpest legal briefs in school. But now, even holding a pen felt foreign.

My name was Zelda Lane. I was twenty-seven, and today, I was finally out of prison.

As I'd expected, no one was there to pick me up.

I took a deep breath. The air tasted like freedom, but underneath it all, there was still a hint of decay and blood.

I walked to the curb and flagged down a taxi. "Take me to the nearest bank."

The car pulled away, and the city outside the window raced backward.

Three years had passed. Now there were more tall buildings here, and it felt colder than before.

At the bank's self-service area, my hands shook as I slid the card Richard's assistant gave me into the ATM.

I stared at the screen, my heart pounding in my chest.

I'd traded three years of freedom and my entire future for the 3 million dollars. It was supposed to be my dad's lifeline.

But the moment I saw the balance, my blood ran cold.

It read "30,000.00."

I checked it over and over again, thinking maybe I had misread.

Why was there only thirty thousand?

I frantically pulled the card out, shoved it back in, and checked again.

It was still thirty thousand.

A chill raced up my spine, making me tremble. I had to hold onto the cold machine to keep from falling.

No way. Richard was the big boss of Grant Group. He wouldn't lie to me.

I rushed out of the bank and found a nearby payphone. With the few coins I had left, I dialed Betrico Hospital.

My voice trembled. "Hello, I'm looking for David Lane in the inpatient department. I want to know how he's doing."

"David Lane?" The nurse paused, her tone laced with routine regret. "He passed away a year ago. Since we couldn't find any family, we followed hospital rules and handled his things."

In that instant, my entire world fell completely apart.

The phone slipped from my hand, clattering in the booth.

But all I could hear was the nurse's words, repeating over and over: "He passed away a year ago."

A year ago... That was my second year locked up.

Richard, you promised me you'd make sure my dad got the best care.

Tears burst out without warning, scorching my cheeks.

I crouched down, burying my head in my knees, letting out a broken sound.

My dad was gone.

I lost my last living family member.

I threw myself into hell to save him, but he never lived to see me walk free.

I don't know how long I stayed there, but eventually, a pair of polished black leather shoes stopped in front of me.

I slowly looked up, my vision blurred by tears, and saw a strikingly handsome but icy face.

It was Richard.

He hadn't changed at all, still in that impeccably tailored black suit, radiating cold elegance and untouchable distance.

He looked at me with bottomless eyes, like I was some lifeless object.

Clinging to his side was a woman in a white dress, her makeup flawless, her smile delicate.

It was Julia, Richard's true love.

She ran someone over, and I ended up taking the blame for her.

"Zelda," Julia cooed, her voice syrupy sweet, but every word cut like a blade. "You're finally out. You're crying so hard. Did prison treat you badly? You must have had a terrible three years."

As she spoke, she deliberately leaned closer to Richard, staking her claim on him.

I stared at her fake face, hatred boiling inside me.

I shot to my feet and, with every ounce of strength I had, slapped her hard across the face.

The sharp crack echoed through the air, freezing everything around us.

Julia clutched her face, staring at me in disbelief as her eyes turned red. "Y-You hit me?"

"Hit you?" I laughed, my voice rough and sharp. "I should've finished you off three years ago."

Julia immediately turned to Richard, tears streaming down her face, as if she had been terribly wronged.

"Richard," she sobbed, "she hit me right after getting out of prison. She's lost her mind."

I locked eyes with Richard, waiting to see what he'd do.

Was he going to stand by her again, like he did three years ago, and push me back into hell?

But Richard barely glanced at Julia's swollen cheek before his eyes settled back on me.

There was no anger or pity in his eyes, only endless coldness.

He pulled a document from the inner pocket of his suit and handed it to me.

"Sign it," he said, his voice icy, brooking no objections.

I glanced down. The cover gleamed with gold letters: [Chief Lawyer Employment Contract]

My heart sank.

"What does this mean?" I rasped, my voice rough.

"From today, be my chief lawyer," Richard said, his words carrying absolute authority. "Everything I own, legal or illegal, is yours to deal with."

Julia froze, grabbing Richard's arm anxiously. "You want her as your lawyer? She's been to prison."

Richard didn't even look at her. Instead, he stared at me and said again, "Sign it."

I reached out with my scarred hands and took the weighty contract from him.

The edge of the paper slid across my fingertip, leaving a subtle sting.

Tears still on my face, I smiled brightly, almost eerily.

Chief lawyer? Both legal and illegal? Great.

You handed me the blade yourself, Richard.

I looked up, locking eyes with him, and said, word by word, "Okay."

Without a pen, I bit my finger, drawing blood. With that drop, I signed my name at the bottom of the contract.

That crimson signature was like a red flower, haunting and resolute.

Just you waited, Richard.

I'd handle your shady business, until I saw you locked up.

I'd make you pay in blood for everything you'd done.