Chapter 1

Jeremiah Randolph was a poor kid my dad sponsored, and he was also my so-called "child husband" in name.

I thought he was a total bumpkin and couldn't stand how broke he was. For five whole years, I kept finding new ways to mess with him.

It wasn't until the day my dad's company went under that I finally found out the truth.

He wasn't some country bumpkin who made it big. He was the crown prince of Urymond City, the one with power over everything.

He had lowered himself to join my family, all just to take revenge on my dad for the humiliation he put him through years ago.

Jeremiah tossed the acquisition contract at me and invited me to be his lowest lover.

All his friends were just waiting to see me grovel, to watch the fallen heiress beg for scraps.

I stared back at him, meeting his smug, vengeful gaze.

I shook my head and said calmly, "I refuse."

I said, "Jeremiah, you probably have no idea, but my dad already set up a safety net for me. And that safety net? Turns out, it's your father."

My dad's company, the Roman Group, had gone bankrupt.

When the news hit, I was at a luxury boutique, swiping my card to order next season's couture.

But my card got frozen, and the manager, with a polite smile that didn't reach his eyes, asked me to leave.

I was Jocelynn Roman, who had been the golden girl for twenty years, and for the first time, I tasted what it felt like to be kicked out.

When I got home, the villa that used to be so lively was now a wreck, with a foreclosure notice slapped on the front door.

My dad sat on the living room couch, his hair shockingly white, as if he'd aged years overnight.

And standing beside him was someone both familiar and utterly foreign to me, Jeremiah.

He was dressed in a custom-tailored black suit, and on his wrist was a luxury watch I couldn't even name, but I knew it probably cost more than my entire wardrobe.

Gone was the poor kid in those washed-out school uniforms, always keeping his head down and letting me walk all over him.

He had a few assistants trailing behind him, following him like he was royalty.

"Jocelynn, it's been a while," he said, his voice cold as ice.

My dad stood up, his whole body trembling, trying to say something, but Jeremiah silenced him with a single look.

"Dad," I said as I walked over and steadied him as he nearly collapsed, "what's going on?"

Jeremiah let out a cold laugh and flung a document right in my face.

The edge of the paper scraped across my cheek, leaving a stinging burn.

"The acquisition contract for the Roman Group," he said, towering over me, his eyes full of vengeful delight. "From today on, this place, and everything your dad owns, belongs to me."

I stared at him, my heart turning to ice, bit by bit.

Five years ago, my dad brought him home from some remote village, saying he was the son of an old friend and that we should treat him kindly.

But I treated him like a dog.

I made him go out in a blizzard just to buy me a cake I'd casually mentioned. I made him unclog the drain with his bare hands just because I complained about it. I even made him get down on his knees and wipe my shoes.

I always thought he was just a pathetic loser, obedient, numb, and totally spineless, with not a shred of dignity.

Turned out, he was just biding his time, waiting for this day.

"Why?" My voice was dry, barely above a whisper.

"Why?" He let out a mocking laugh, like I'd just told the world's biggest joke. "Jocelynn, have you forgotten? Five years ago, your dad made me get down on my knees and call him 'master' in front of everyone, all for some so-called 'sponsorship.'

"He said my whole life belonged to the Roman family, and I should be their slave. You might have forgotten, but I sure haven't."

His friends whistled and jeered at me, their eyes full of mockery.

"Jeremiah, why waste your breath on her? Pay her back a hundredfold for everything she did to you!" one of them shouted.

"Yeah, let her see what it's like to be treated like a dog!" another chimed in.

Jeremiah smirked, clearly enjoying their words. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

"Jocelynn, your dad owes me, and now you're the payment," Jeremiah said, his tone icy and merciless.

"You're going to be my most pathetic plaything, always at my call," he sneered, voice slick and poisonous. "If I feel generous, maybe your dad won't rot in prison quite as long."

Humiliation crashed over me like a tidal wave.

I saw my dad's eyes burning red, and Jeremiah's friends grinning with cruel delight.

And in Jeremiah's eyes, I saw the look of someone who had me completely under his thumb.

He thought he had won.

He thought I was just a fallen heiress, doomed to grovel at his feet.

I stared him down, meeting his vengeful eyes without flinching.

I shook my head and said calmly, "I refuse."

The whole room went dead silent.

Jeremiah's face turned stormy. "Say that again?"

I repeated, slow and clear, "I said, I refuse."

Before he could explode, I shoved his hand away and stared straight at the pack of rich kids behind him, all hungry for drama.

"Jeremiah, bet you didn't know my dad already had a backup plan for me," I said.