Chapter 2

Outside the massive floor-to-ceiling windows of the CEO's office on the top floor of Grant Group, the bustling city stretched out below.

But inside, the tension was so thick, it was hard to breathe.

I stood in front of the desk, still wearing the faded old clothes from the day I got out of prison, looking out of place amid all this luxury.

Richard sat in his leather chair, his long fingers tapping steadily on the desk. Each tap echoed in my chest, tightening the pressure around my heart.

"From today, you'll work here," he said, pointing to a glass partitioned cubicle beside him. Inside, everything was so new it practically sparkled.

"Mr. Grant," I said, my voice flat. "There's nothing about my salary in the contract."

He looked up at me, his eyes probing. "How much do you want?"

"How much is my dad's life worth?" I stared back at him, refusing to back down.

The room went cold in an instant.

Richard's eyes grew darker, his vibe icy.

"Zelda, don't push me," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

"Bottom line?" I let out a mocking laugh. "What is it? Watching my dad rot away in a hospital bed? Or slashing the 3 million I was owed down to 30 thousand? Is that your so-called bottom line, Mr. Big Shot?"

Richard shot up from his chair, his towering presence overwhelming as he strode straight toward me.

"Who do you think you're talking to?" he loomed over me, his aura so intense it felt like I could be crushed under its weight.

The crisp bite of his cologne, laced with a trace of smoke, hit me.

He was handsome, powerful, and ruthlessly cold to the core.

I didn't flinch. Instead, I held his gaze, stood on my tiptoes, and leaned close to his ear.

"I'm talking to my dad's murderer," I murmured, just loud enough for him alone.

Hardly had the words left my mouth when his hand shot up and wrapped tightly around my throat.

The sudden rush of suffocation hit me, forcing my head back as I struggled for every breath.

His palm was scorching, the grip so fierce it felt like he could crush my throat.

"You're asking for death," he snarled, his voice laced with overwhelming rage for the first time.

I stared into the storm of fury in his eyes, a smile tugging at my lips.

I raised my hand, not to break free, but to dig my nails deep into the back of his hand, hard and unyielding.

Instantly, a slash of blood appeared across the back of his hand.

The sharp pain made him loosen his grip for a split second.

I seized the chance, coughing violently as I gasped for air.

I wheezed, my gaze still unyielding, "Richard, if you kill me, you'll never find a lawyer as 'compliant' as me.

"Who else is better suited to handle your dirty work and clean up your messes than me, an 'insider' who just got out of prison?"

His hand hovered in the air, blood beads slowly seeping from the cut, glaring and alluring.

He locked his gaze on me, filled with anger, surprise, and something I couldn't figure out.

After a long while, he finally withdrew his hand, pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket, and slowly wiped the blood from his skin.

"Good," he said, his voice back to its usual icy tone. "Your salary is 150 thousand a month. That apartment in the west of the city is yours. Satisfied?"

I let out a cold laugh inwardly.

Did he think tossing money at me would erase my hatred?

"Deal," I answered, my voice steady.

If he believed I was here for the money, so be it. The more he looked down on me, the more openings he'd give me.

Right then, the office door was pushed open. Julia walked in, holding a cup of coffee.

"Richard, I made you—"

She caught sight of me, her words dying instantly. The smile on her face stiffened awkwardly.

When she saw the bloody scratch on Richard's hand, her expression twisted in shock.

"What happened to your hand? Was it her?" she shrieked, rushing over.

She jabbed her finger at me. "Zelda, you psycho! How could you hurt Richard?"

I couldn't even be bothered to spare her a glance.

"Get out," Richard said, his voice ice-cold.

Julia froze, thinking she'd misheard. "Richard, what did you say?"

"I told you to get out," Richard said, his eyes still locked on me.

Julia's face flushed, then went pale. She shot me a venomous glare, stomped in frustration, and stormed out.

Once again, it was just the two of us in the office.

"Handle this," Richard said, tossing a manila envelope onto the desk. "I want a flawless solution on my desk by tomorrow morning."

I walked over and picked up the file folder.

"Rest assured," I said, flipping it open and skimming through the contents at lightning speed.

It was a plan for a hostile takeover, dirty, underhanded, and full of flaws.

"I'll make it perfect," I said, my voice icy. "So flawless, no one will ever find a single trace."

My fingers brushed over a particular clause, a chilling smirk curling at the corner of my mouth.

Richard, the game began.

I'd tear your carefully built empire apart, with the rules you taught me, the power you gave me.