Chapter 1
The hood came off, and a gust of cold, foul air rushed into my throat.
I blinked a few times, slowly adjusting to the dim light.
This wasn't some shack by a drainage ditch.
I was standing at the end of a massive underground corridor. Smooth concrete walls stretched into the distance, lined with cold white industrial lights every ten feet.
Two rows of men in black stood on either side.
Their polished combat boots gleamed.
The bulges at their waists definitely weren't cell phones.
The way they looked at me...
was the way people stare at a package that had been delivered to the wrong address.
At the front, a man approached slowly.
He had a military buzz cut and a scar running from his brow all the way down to his jaw.
He smelled like gun oil mixed with cigar smoke—heavy and suffocating, like an old military coat.
So this is what they sent us
His voice echoed through the tunnel.
Cold.
Emotionless.
Beside him, a middle-aged man with gold-rimmed glasses—who looked more like an accountant than a gangster—opened a leather folder and glanced down.
Don Petrov sent her over. Said she's his useless daughter that got lost somewhere along the way. Told us to do whatever we want with her.
The scarred man.
No—
I knew exactly who he was now.
Yuri Kovalenko.
The current head of the Kovalenko Empire.
He stopped in front of me and looked down.
A seven-year-old body.
Bandages wrapped around my right wrist.
The mark from my father's slap still swollen across my face.
I looked up at him.
No tears.
No trembling.
How old are you he asked.
It wasn't a question.
It was a verdict.
I licked my cracked lips.
Seven.
Name.
Vivian.
He let out a cold chuckle.
The scar twisted with his smile like a centipede crawling across his face.
Vivian.
Sounds like a rich little princess.
He crouched down and grabbed my chin with rough fingers, forcing me to meet his eyes.
Gray eyes.
Like the Volga River in winter before it freezes over.
Kid.
Do you know where you are
I stayed silent.
He leaned closer, his voice grinding like gravel.
This is hell.
When your father came and slaughtered our village twenty years ago, I doubt he ever imagined we'd end up here.
My heart skipped.
Not because I was afraid.
But because I finally understood something I'd overheard before the black SUV drove away.
This child has Lawrence blood in her veins, and she'll be raised by the Kovalenkos.
One day, she'll become the perfect monster.
My mother's voice had dripped with disgust.
She thought I hadn't heard.
She was wrong.
They shoved me through endless hallways and eventually threw me into a windowless basement.
The iron door slammed shut.
Darkness swallowed everything.
I curled up in the corner, burying my face in my knees.
The lost princess of the Lawrence family.
The shadow bride of the Kovalenko Empire.
Twenty years from now...
All of New York would remember those two names.
But tonight—
all I had to do was survive.
Footsteps approached.
A key turned.
The door opened.
A tall woman with silver hair stepped inside, dressed in a black apron and carrying a tray.
Without a word, she placed a bowl of hot soup and half a loaf of dark bread on the floor.
Eat, she said softly.
Her voice was a hundred times gentler than Yuri's.
I looked up at her.
She didn't leave.
Instead, she crouched in front of me.
Something I couldn't understand flickered in her cloudy eyes.
Pity.
They say you're a Lawrence child, she said quietly.
I knew your father.
I swallowed.
You knew Felipe
No.
She shook her head.
The man I knew was Don Kovalenko.
Twenty years ago, he pulled me out of a pile of corpses.
She paused.
Her frail fingers brushed the knots out of my tangled hair.
You look just like he did when he was young.
I froze.
The silver-haired woman stood and headed toward the door.
Before leaving, she glanced back.
My name is Marina.
Starting tonight, I'm your caretaker.
And remember this.
In a place like this, the only way to survive...
...is to make everyone believe you're already dead.
The iron door shut once more.
I picked up the bowl of soup.
For the first time in my life,
I felt warmth travel from my throat all the way down to my stomach.
