Chapter 1

In my most desperate year, I sold out the two Hart brothers I was betrothed to, all for a single meal.

Nathan Hart, the gentle and steady older brother, sped after me to the airport and crashed halfway there. Both legs paralyzed.

Leon Hart, the reckless younger brother, fought desperately to save the company, but his methods went too far, and he was sent to prison.

That night, the Hart Group's official account posted my photo. The caption read, [Zoe Turner, it ends only when one of us is dead.]

By the third year of hiding, life had grown hard again.

I had no choice but to return home and take on a restoration job to earn some money. But I walked right into a trap they had set.

In a sealed room, Leon, fresh out of prison, pressed a blade against my neck. His voice was light, but dripping with hate. "Found yourself a new boyfriend, huh? Got brave."

Nathan rolled up in his wheelchair and reached out to pat my head, his voice gentle. "Now that you're back, you can't leave again."

*****

The day Chris Rivers and I returned to Southvale, a sudden cold snap hit the city. Even though it was late spring, hail started coming down out of nowhere.

After jumping through a bunch of hoops, I finally scored a gig restoring antiques and arranged to meet the client. Once that was done, I got my brother, Bruce Turner, settled in at the hospital.

After days of running around, things were finally starting to settle down. But my cold kept getting worse, and I had pneumonia. The doctor made me stay in the hospital to recover.

Chris dropped everything and came to keep me company.

He wrapped his hand around my IV tube to warm it up, his expression grim. "You got back to work, and now you're already pushing yourself like this.

"Honestly, you were better off abroad. At least you could get some real rest there."

I knew I was at fault, so I kept my head down, feeling like a guilty puppy.

Chris let out a helpless sigh. "Bruce's illness isn't your burden, Zoe. I'm in this with you. You really need to show yourself some love."

All I could do was lie there.

Even with my eyes closed, I couldn't help but think about that gig.

I was supposed to meet the client tonight and sign the contract.

Since I had to cancel at the last minute, I was worried they'd replace me.

These past few years, gigs were nearly impossible to land, and I was struggling to get by.

Bruce and I couldn't rely on Chris for the rest of our lives.

Late that night, Chris got a call from his company.

He had no choice but to get up and leave, but before he went, he shot me a serious warning. "If you dare to sneak out, I'll go straight to Bruce and tell him everything."

I immediately threw my hands up in surrender, swearing I'd stay put. Only then did Chris leave.

As soon as he was gone, I grabbed my phone and texted the client.

I explained my situation and carefully asked if we could reschedule.

The client replied with an address: [Ms. Turner, we had an appointment. I'm already here, waiting for you.]

I was torn, but I couldn't let the deal slip through my fingers.

So, I slipped out of the hospital under the cover of night.

I grabbed a cab and headed straight to the company where I was supposed to meet the client.

The client was waiting outside the building and led me to the office.

*****

When we got to the office door, the client raised his hand and knocked respectfully.

Something felt off, and I couldn't shake the feeling.

Before I could say anything, a cold voice came from inside the room: "Come in."

The voice was familiar, but the way he spoke was nothing like I remembered.

All at once, memories from three years ago hit me like a tidal wave.

I spun around, ready to bolt. But then, out of nowhere, I saw a man in a wheelchair not far behind me.

He looked as gentle as ever, quietly wheeling himself closer.

Three years had passed. His face was still soft and warm, like he was the kindest soul one could ever meet.

It was Nathan Hart.

He smiled gently and said, "You're here."

I suddenly felt like I couldn't breathe, and instinctively backed away from him in a panic.

My back slammed into the office door, and the half-open door flew open.

Inside, Leon was sprawled out on the couch, his long legs crossed.

He held a cigarette between his fingers, the ember burning bright.

There was a cold indifference and mocking disdain in his expression, something I'd never seen from Leon before.

He watched me without blinking. It was the look of a predator, watching its prey walk right into the trap.

"Zoe, it's been a while," Leon said.

That piercing ringing in my ears from three years ago suddenly hit me again.

I tried to bolt, but Nathan was already blocking the door in his wheelchair.

The man who'd brought me in leaned in and whispered in my ear. "Mr. Leon Hart actually has his eye on that antique.

"Ms. Turner, talk to Mr. Leon Hart about the restoration contract. He's the one in charge now."

Saying that, he slipped out and pulled the door shut behind him.

Then I heard the unmistakable sound of the lock snapping shut from outside.

My heart thudded in my chest, panic rising.

My face went cold. I tried to keep it together, grabbed my phone, and said, "Let me out, or I'm calling the cops.

"The Hart family wouldn't want the world thinking they're locking people up, right?"

I heard Leon snort, clicking his tongue in mockery.

He sounded both sarcastic and a little shocked.

He leaned in, pressing his arm against the coffee table, cigarette dangling from his fingers.

Like he'd heard the funniest thing ever, he looked at me in disbelief, then shot a glance at Nathan. "Hey, Nathan, did you catch that? Listen to what she's saying."

His cigarette was nearly down to the filter when Leon couldn't help but laugh. "A fugitive, hiding for three years, is going to call the cops? Seriously?"

Nathan let out a soft sigh. He still looked every bit the caring older brother.

As three years ago, when Leon and I were at each other's throats, Nathan would always step in to play peacemaker. "Let it go, Leon. That's over now.

"Ms. Turner was young and didn't know any better back then."

Leon's eyes were burning with hatred, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. "Over?

"Hart Group nearly went under, I got slapped with five years in prison, and my dad's death on top of it.

"Nathan, you're kind-hearted, but I can't let it go. Not now, not ever."

As he spoke, Leon tapped his finger on the antique restoration contract lying on the coffee table. "Zoe, sign it. That's the only way you're walking out of here."

I was not stupid. That antique was worth a fortune. If he were trying to screw me over, even the tiniest mistake during the restoration could ruin me. I couldn't pay for it.

My palms were slick with sweat. But I fixed Leon with a cold stare and said, voice steady, "I'm not signing it."

Leon raised an eyebrow, stretching the word out in a mocking drawl. "Oh?"

He crushed his cigarette out in the ashtray. The glowing tip went out in an instant. Déjà vu, but this time, something felt off.

I could almost feel that cigarette burning right through me, like the pain was crawling under my skin.

The burn was vivid, almost too real.

I instinctively stepped back. My hands started shaking, fists clenched so tight I couldn't let go.

I wanted to hide my hands in my pockets, but when I reached for my jacket, I realized there were no pockets.

Leon glanced at me, then at the cigarette butt in the ashtray.

For a split second, he looked genuinely confused, like he couldn't figure me out.

But in the next moment, his face went cold again.

He stood up, as if idly toying with something, and picked up a fruit knife from the coffee table.

The blade was razor-sharp. He scraped it lightly across his fingertip, and blood welled up instantly.

He moved in, and before I knew it, the blade was at my throat, cold and unforgiving.

I didn't flinch.

With the space between us suddenly gone, it felt like I was really seeing his face again after all this time.

Three years had gone by, and all that remained between us was this unfamiliar distance.

He used to be so cocky and carefree, but when he confessed to me, his ears would turn bright red.

His face was nothing but cold indifference and hate at this moment.

He stared at me, a cold smirk twisting his lips. "Don't tell me you think you still get to choose."

I locked eyes with him. "I said I'm not signing. If you've got the balls, do it. Kill me right here. If you kill me, you'll pay for it. My life's cheap, so it's no loss for me."

Leon's sneer froze mid-smirk. After a beat, realization dawned on him. "So, you've got a new boyfriend now? Getting bold, huh? Think someone's got your back now?"