Chapter 1
I'd been stuck in the Red River Compound for seven years, and honestly, I barely felt human anymore.
It wasn't until the twins came along that my numb heart finally felt a flicker of life.
My husband, William Grant, was The Boss's right-hand man. He was always cold as ice, either hitting me or yelling at me.
But that night, he suddenly burst into the room.
He shoved a heavy suitcase and a boat ticket into my arms. "Go. Take the kids and run. Tomorrow, they're sweeping the place. No one's getting out alive."
His voice was hoarse, and there was a fear in his eyes I'd never seen before.
I clung to the kids, my voice shaking. "What about you?"
He wiped the blood from his face and gave a grim smile. "I'm going to earn our kids a future where they're free from all this."
I'd been trapped in Red River Province for seven years.
The sun in Sunport was ruthless and impartial, scorching every inch of land without mercy.
My skin had long ago been baked rough and dark by the relentless sun.
The scars crisscrossing my arms were the only badges of honor these seven years had left me.
People called me Helen.
No one remembered my real name, Helen Norris.
I was starting to forget it myself.
Seven years ago, my then-boyfriend tricked me into coming here.
They confiscated my passport and locked me up in The Compound.
At first, I cried, made a scene, and kept dreaming of escape.
But after a while, all that was left was numbness.
Fear was a luxury I couldn't afford.
Numbness was my armor.
In The Compound, a human life was worth less than a dog.
I'd seen too many people get their legs broken and tossed by the roadside, left to rot.
I'd also seen too many get sold off, vanishing without a trace.
I only survived because of William.
He was The Boss's right-hand man, infamous for his ruthlessness.
He was also my husband.
Of course, there was no wedding, no blessings, not even a piece of paper to make it official.
The Boss tossed William a woman he had no use for, like a piece of trash.
That woman was me.
William didn't love me. In fact, he downright hated me.
To him, I was nothing but a burden, dirty and used, someone else's leftovers.
He never bothered to hide how much he despised me.
If he was in a good mood, he might toss me a scrap of food.
If he wasn't, getting kicked and punched was routine.
One slap, and my head would spin, my mouth tasting like blood.
I couldn't dodge, and I sure as hell couldn't fight back.
All I could do was curl up on the floor, hug my head, and take it like a beaten dog.
Then, a year ago, my twins, a boy and a girl, came into the world.
Andrew Grant and Rachel Grant.
My Andrew, my Rachel.
They were two wrinkly little bundles, like a pair of newborn kittens.
Their cries were the first thing that brought some life back into this lifeless room.
And for the first time in years, I finally felt my heart come back to life.
I started to fear for my life.
I wanted to be there as they grew up.
Even if it meant staying trapped in this hellhole.
William couldn't even be bothered with the kids.
Sometimes he'd stand by the crib, barely sparing them a glance.
His gaze was distant, like he was looking at two things that had nothing to do with him.
He still hit me and yelled at me, like always.
He only stopped aiming for my face.
He said it was so the kids wouldn't get scared.
Today, The Compound felt suffocating, like everyone was holding their breath.
The air was thick, like a storm was brewing and about to hit any second.
Even William showed up early, which never happened.
He came in smelling strongly of blood and gunpowder, the kind of mix that made your skin crawl.
He kicked the door open and didn't bother to look at me or the kids.
He headed straight for the bathroom and let the cold water run over him for a long time.
When he came out, he was only wrapped in a towel.
His muscular body was bearing a few fresh cuts and bruises.
I was holding Rachel, who I'd lulled to sleep, barely daring to breathe.
Andrew lay in his crib, his big, dark eyes shining with curiosity as he watched William.
William walked over to the crib and, in a rare moment, reached out to touch Andrew's face.
His fingers were tough and callused, rough from years of hard living.
But Andrew wasn't scared at all. He grinned, showing off his toothless smile.
William jerked his hand back like he'd been burned.
He turned and shot me a cold, emotionless look. "Keep an eye on the kids. Don't make a sound tonight."
I lowered my head and murmured a soft yes.
Night had fallen, heavy and silent.
I was jolted awake by a sudden, frantic knocking at the door.
The knocking was coming from William's room.
My room was a storage closet, piled high with junk.
I immediately covered the kids' mouths, my heart pounding like crazy.
In The Compound, a knock at your door in the dead of night was pretty much a death sentence.
The door was kicked open.
Terrified, I looked up and saw William.
He was drenched in blood, a deep gash across his face, the wound gaping and flesh turned inside out.
He was breathing raggedly, his eyes bloodshot and filled with panic and rage.
It was a look I'd never seen on him before.
It wasn't ruthlessness or brutality.
It was pure, raw fear.
William burst into the room.
He locked the door behind him and slammed a heavy black suitcase down right in front of me.
The suitcase hit the floor with a deep, muffled thud, its weight making the whole room seem to shake.
His voice was so hoarse it sounded shredded, barely more than a rasp. "Take it."
I hugged the kids close, huddled in the corner, trembling from head to toe. "What is this?"
He kept it short, no extra words. "Money."
Then he pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and shoved it into my arms. "And this."
By the faint light coming through the window, I could finally see what it was.
It was a boat ticket.
It was a boat ticket from Sunport to Harbor City.
My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was about to leap right out of my throat.