Chapter 1

On the day zombies overran our city, my fiancé, Andrew Harris, locked me out of the car all for his beloved woman.

At that critical moment of dying, it was the very wanted criminal whose hideout I'd once raided came to my rescue.

He pinched my chin and said with a teasing smirk, "Ms. Miller, you've got nowhere to go. You're mine now."

*****

Rain mixed with blood streamed down my face. I sprinted through the ruins, covering my wounded left arm.

Behind me, waves of howls echoed. Those monsters that used to be human were closing in relentlessly.

"Open the door. Please, I'm begging you. Open the door," I shouted.

I frantically pounded on the train's steel door. Through the blurred window, I caught a glimpse of Andrew's familiar face.

He was dressed in a tidy uniform, and the Safe Zone insignia at his collar gleamed under the lights.

"Manda, you've been bitten by the zombies." Andrew's casual voice came through the metal door, which sounded like he was discussing the weather.

I looked down at my left arm. My protective suit was torn open, and dark red blood was spreading across the fabric.

But the wound was superficial. I knew as long as I got the antiserum in time, I could survive.

I banged on the door. "I haven't turned mutated into a zombie yet. Andrew, please, open the door for me."

My nails scraped against the steel door, making harsh noises. I cried out, "After five years of fighting side by side with you, is this how you repay me?"

Inside the train, Vanessa White clung to Andrew's arm. She wore flawless makeup today. Her pink lips opened as she said, "Andrew, we gotta follow the rules. Those who are bitten by zombies aren't allowed on board."

I stared daggers at the woman I'd saved three times before. The necklace I once gave her on her birthday was still glinting around her neck.

Andrew's gaze darted between me and Vanessa, yet it finally settled on my bleeding left arm.

He shook his head and said in a disappointed tone, "Manda, I thought you were sensible."

Andrew's words were like a sharp knife that stabbed me right in my heart.

"No!" I cried out in desperation.

I watched helplessly as the ventilation grate slid shut. Vanessa leaned against Andrew's shoulder, flashing me a triumphant smirk.

The disgusting stench of zombies was right upon me.

My back slid down the icy steel door as my legs gave way, and suddenly a hysterical laugh bubbled up inside me.

What did I ever see in Andrew?

Was it because he always made me lead the charge on missions?

Was it that he was always two hours late to every date?

Or that he threw me at the zombies without a second thought just to protect himself and his beloved woman?

As the first zombie lunged at me, I squeezed my eyes shut.

The pain I was bracing for never came. Instead, a gunshot echoed in my ears, and the zombie's warm blood splattered across my face.

I opened my eyes to see the zombie's head explode before me.

"Ms. Miller, are you in such a hurry to meet your end, huh?" a man's sneer rang out in my ear.

That voice sent chills down my spine.

I looked up and saw Jared Stevens standing atop a shipping container a few feet away, with his smoking gun still above his head. The downpour soaked his white shirt, revealing his lean frame and muscular abs.

He tilted his head and looked at me with fox-like eyes dancing with wicked amusement.

To be honest, I'd rather be torn apart by zombies than be saved by him.

The thought had barely formed in my mind when the train's engines thundered into motion.

Andrew and his group were gone, with every last dose of antiserum and all the emergency supplies.

Jared smirked. "It's sad. Looks like your Commander Harris dumped you."

He jumped down on the floor, his boots crushing a zombie's skull with a sickening crunch. Crouching in front of me, he tilted my chin up with the barrel of his gun and drawled, "What a poor girl."

I clenched my jaw, refusing to utter a word. Jared was the No.1 wanted man of the Safe Zone, the lunatic who built his empire on black-market drugs and weapons.

Six months ago, I led a team to raid his warehouse. Back then, through the flames, he smiled at me and said, "Ms. Miller, we'll meet again."

I never imagined our next encounter would be under a circumstance like this.

"Just kill me," I rasped, my voice raw with exhaustion.

I'd rather have a clean death than turn into a walking corpse.

Jared let out a low chuckle. He reached out and gently wiped the blood from my face. His every move was so gentle, as if he was dealing with a precious treasure. He said, "How could I ever bear to do that to you?"

However, the very next second, he jabbed a needle into my neck.

Just before I blacked out, I heard him say, "Sleep tight, little kitten. The game has just begun..."

When I woke up, a harsh light made me instinctively squeeze my eyes shut.

Cold metal clamped around my wrists and ankles, sending a chilling sensation through me.

I found I was strapped to a medical bed.

"Oh, sweetheart, are you awake?" Jared asked.

He sat on the edge of the bed, casually fiddling with a scalpel.

The silver blade flickered between his fingers like a deadly butterfly in flight.

I struggled to break free, but it was no use.

The wounds all over my body had been properly treated. My left arm was wrapped in bandages, and a dull ache pulsed through the vein where the antiserum had been injected.

I shot Jared a guarded look and asked warily, "Why did you save me?"

Jared paused, the tip of his blade tracing lightly along my collarbone. "Do you know how many people would kill for a single dose of my antiserum?"

He leaned in, his breath ghosting over my ear. "Ms. Miller, I saved your life. How do you plan to return my favor?"

My body went rigid. He carried a faint antiseptic scent blended with a woody note, inexplicably reminding me of the eerie calm before a storm.

Seeing I stayed silent, he let out a teasing chuckle. The tip of his blade drifted downward and popped open my first button. He spoke up, "I heard the Safe Zone's female soldiers are quite fiery."

Despair and fury exploded in my chest.

Before I realized what I was doing, I tilted my head up and pressed my lips against his.

The sudden kiss showed no skills at all—it was nothing but a desperate act of defiance.

I could feel Jared's body go rigid against mine, his breath turning heavier.

When I finally moved my lips away from his, a flicker of panic—something I'd never seen in his eyes before—flashed across his face.

"Is this what you want?" I met his gaze, daring him to answer.

Jared brushed his thumb across his own wet lips.

He laughed—not his usual calculated smirk, but a genuine delight that reached his eyes.

"Amanda," Jared drawled, working free my bonds with deliberate slowness. "You know what? You're more interested than I thought"

As he held a cup of warm water to my lips, it finally dawned on me that this madman might actually be serious.

And I had just voluntarily kissed the most dangerous wanted man in the entire Safe Zone.

I followed Jared through three heavily encrypted steel doors and paused my step at the sight before me.

It was a spacious room. I saw a crystal chandelier cast a warm glow over the room. A set of leather sofas circled a marble coffee table. The liquor cabinet was stocked with aged whiskies I couldn't afford even before the apocalypse.

This wasn't a temporary shelter at all; it was a goddamn luxury house.

"Do you like this place?" asked Jared.

He undid his cufflinks, looking casually as if he were just showing off his own living room. "Fully automated climate control, nearly 100 feet underground—this place is totally nuke-proof."

I clenched my fists and asked in awe, "How the hell did you pull this off?"

"Simple enough," he said with a smile.

He poured a glass of amber liquid and handed it to me. "While others were scrambling for canned food, I was stockpiling antibiotics."

I gently swayed the glass in my hand.

Three years ago, when the virus broke out, Jared was just an unknown pharmaceutical rep.

Now, outside the Safe Zone, a single dose of antiserum can be traded for 11 pounds of gold. Jared controlled the entire underground city's medical lifeline.

He said to me while raising his glass, "Enjoy it. It's Macallan from 1982."

He clinked his glass against mine with a smirk. "It's far better than the watered-down whisky your fiancé traded his points for."

The liquor burned all the way down my throat. I set the glass down and met his eyes. "So, what's your price?"

Jared arched his eyebrow and looked at me.

"There must be a reason you saved me, huh?" I asked.

I met his gaze and added, "Do you want the Safe Zone's defense plans, or do you plan to use me as bait to lure Andrew into your trap?"

Jared suddenly burst out laughing and brushed aside the strands of hair from my forehead. "Ms. Miller, you're far more interested than I imagined."

His cool fingertips grazed my skin as he whispered, "I want you."

"What?" I asked, a little surprised.

He replied, "Yeah, you heard me."

He suddenly slid a contract across the table and asked, "The antiserum is worth a king's ransom. Ms. Miller, how do you plan to repay me?"

The words "INDENTURE CONTRACT" burned into my retinas.

Clause after clause filled the page, but it all boiled down to one thing: I could not leave without permission. The term of the contract was permanent.

I sneered, "Why don't you just kill me?"

"I can't bear to do that," he replied.

Jared took a syringe from the drawer, the strange blue liquid inside glowing ominously. "This is the last dose of enhanced antivirus serum. It can keep you from infecting, but there's a catch."

He pressed the needle to my carotid artery. "You'll need a suppressor shot every month. Miss a dose, and you'll feel even more terrible than zombification."

My entire body went rigid with tension.

"Sign it, and you'll get your first dose," he said, his hot breath spraying on my ear.

He added, "Or I'll throw you back to the ruins right now. Your choice, Ms. Miller."

I grabbed the pen on the table and cut my thumb with the nib. After pressing a bloody thumbprint onto the contract, I asked him, "Happy now?"

A satisfied smirk appeared on Jared's face. As the needle pierced my skin, I heard him murmur by my ear, "Welcome home, Ms. Miller."

The antiserum kicked in instantly, sending a searing pain from my spine to every limb.

I curled up on the sofa, shivering uncontrollably. Meanwhile, Jared strolled over and turned on the stereo. The soft tune of Chopin's Nocturne drifted through the room, making a stark contrast to my distress.

"You pervert," I cursed him through clenched teeth.

He dropped to one knee to lock eyes with me. Then, he suddenly reached out and wiped the cold sweat from my forehead, saying, "Relax, I'm right here."

The tenderness caught me so off guard. For a moment, I even forgot to fight back.

By the time the pain subsided, it was midnight. I found myself lying in the bed of the guest room, a glass of water and some pills waiting on the nightstand. Footsteps echoed outside the door. Compelled by some inexplicable urge, I got up and walked out.

The door to Jared's study was left slightly ajar.

Peering through the gap, I saw him completely absorbed in flipping through a photo album. Curiosity drew me closer. When I had a clear view of the album, my breath caught in my throat.

Every single page was filled with photos of me in different places: standing guard at the Safe Zone entrance, drenched in sweat on the training ground, and even hanging laundry on the balcony of my dorm.

"Peeking ain't a good habit," Jared remarked without even looking up.

I pushed the door open and stormed in. Standing in front of him, I demanded, "You've been stalking me, haven't you?"

"I think the word "admiring" is more accurate," he murmured, his fingertips caressing a photo of my profile bathed in sunset glow. "From that first glimpse of you in the slums three years ago, I knew you were extraordinary."

I slammed the photo album shut and roared, "What the hell do you want from me?"

He asked casually, "Didn't my assistant Paul tell you?"

He leaned against the desk with an amused chuckle. "You should know I never make losing deals."

Paul Cohen suddenly appeared at the doorway, his eyes behind his glasses betraying no emotion. He said politely, "Mr. Stevens, we've got the test results."

Jared snatched the folder, skimmed it, and suddenly grabbed my chin, his eyes dangerous. "Did you and Andrew ever sleep?"

"None of your damn business," I shot back.

He narrowed his eyes, his thumb roughly dragging across my lips. "From now on, you belong to me."

Paul cleared his throat and chimed in, "Ms. Miller, Mr. Stevens has been paying attention to you for three years. Don't hurt his feelings."

"What feelings?" I sneered.

I jabbed a finger at the photo album and retorted, "Collecting someone else's photos like this? This is creepy."

Instead of getting angry, Jared just grinned and suddenly swept me up in his arms.

I struggled to jump down, but he murmured in my ear, "You better behave, or I'll kiss you."

I froze instantly and let him take me out of the study.

He brought me to the master bedroom and tossed me onto the bed. Turning toward the door, he said, "Good night, my Sleeping Beauty."

The next moment, I heard the lock click shut. Only then did I feel my back drenched in cold sweats.

I saw a delicate gift box sitting on the nightstand, containing a pearl-inlaid switchblade.

It was the very one I spared a few more glances last year in the Safe Zone's display window.

Beneath the blade lay a note: [Use it against bad guys, including me. From: Jared]

Outside the window hung the bright moon, its chilling light foretelling doomsday.