Chapter 1

When my fiancé and my best friend drugged me and forcibly dragged me into that notorious New York mob boss's penthouse suite, I finally let out a sigh of relief:

"Finally home."

My fiancé thought I was delirious from fear and grabbed my chin viciously:

"Bitch, our company's survival depends on this deal!"

"I heard Mr. Holt had a first love who died, and your face happens to look somewhat like hers."

"Be a good girl and serve him well. Once we land this contract, I might be generous enough to throw you some cash!"

My best friend covered her mouth with a coy laugh:

"Exactly! You should be grateful for the chance to serve Mr. Holt. Don't be ungrateful."

As the drug took effect, I was roughly shoved through that gold-trimmed door.

No one noticed the mockery flooding my eyes as I leaned against the leather sofa.

The Mr. Holt they spoke of—that ruthless, cold-blooded man—was actually my father.

Today, they personally delivered me back to my dad.

Tomorrow, they'll learn what it means to wish for death.