CHAPTER ONE
1631 Words
The kitchen floor was already spotless.
Yet Victoria remained on her knees, scrubbing the polished tiles with a worn-out rag until her fingers burned. Sweat trickled down her temples, mixing with the tears she refused to wipe away. The oversized, faded dress hanging loosely from her frail body looked more like a servant's uniform than clothing.
She hadn't eaten since dawn.
She hadn't rested once.
The only sound in the room was the rhythmic scrape of the rag against the marble floor.
Click. Click.Click.
The sharp sound of expensive heels echoed through the kitchen.
Victoria's body stiffened.
She didn't need to look up to know who it was.
Clara Kane.
Dressed in a breathtaking designer gown that sparkled beneath the lights, Clara looked every bit the wealthy heiress. Diamond earrings shimmered against her flawless skin, and her crimson lips curved into a smile filled with malice.
In one hand was a crystal glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.
She stopped directly in front of Victoria.
Without saying a word.
She slowly tilted the glass.
Splash!
The bright orange liquid spread across the spotless floor Victoria had spent hours cleaning.
Clara smiled.
"Victoria," she said sweetly, "clean it again."
Victoria's trembling hands tightened around the rag.
"I've been cleaning since morning," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Please, just let me rest for a little while."
Clara laughed.
"A servant asking for rest?"
She leaned closer until Victoria could feel her breath.
"No."
She tilted Victoria's chin upward with the tip of her heel.
"Because you're nothing more than a motherless bitch."
Victoria's vision blurred.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and lowered her head.
Arguing would only make things worse.
Silently, she dipped the rag into the bucket and began wiping the juice from the floor.
Behind her, Clara leisurely sat down, crossing one elegant leg over the other as though she were watching a stage performance.
When Victoria crawled close enough.
Crunch!
A sharp cry escaped her lips.
Clara's stiletto heel crushed down on Victoria's hand.
Blood seeped from beneath her fingers almost instantly.
Victoria bit her lip so hard she tasted blood.
She refused to scream.
That would only amuse Clara.
After several agonizing seconds, Clara lifted her heel.
"Oh?" she mocked. "Did that hurt?"
Before Victoria could answer, another voice echoed from outside the kitchen.
"Clara!"
Her mother's voice.
"Where are you?"
Clara rolled her eyes dramatically.
"I'm in the kitchen," she called back. "Having a little fun bullying this motherless stray."
Moments later, Mrs. Kane entered the kitchen.
Her gaze landed on Victoria, who was still kneeling on the bloodstained floor.
Disgust flashed across her face.
"How many times have I told you not to touch that filthy girl?" she snapped at Clara. "Do you want to catch whatever bad luck she carries?"
Clara immediately linked arms with her mother.
"I'm sorry, Mom."
Mrs. Kane's expression softened instantly.
"Forget about her."
She smiled warmly at her daughter.
"Are you ready for tonight's party?"
Clara's eyes sparkled.
"Of course."
She grabbed her designer handbag.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world."
Mother and daughter walked out together, laughing happily.
Neither of them looked back.
Victoria remained alone.
She stared at the blood dripping from her injured hand before quietly picking up the rag once more.
There was still work to do.
AT THE KANE FAMILY GALA
Crystal chandeliers illuminated the magnificent ballroom, filling the room with golden light.
Champagne flowed freely.
Elegant music drifted through the air.
The city's wealthiest families laughed, danced, and discussed million-dollar business deals.
The moment Clara stepped inside, countless eyes turned toward her.
She smiled proudly.
This was where she belonged.
"Lucas."
She walked toward the handsome young man entertaining several important guests.
He excused himself immediately and wrapped an arm around her waist.
"It's nice seeing you, Mr. Spencer," Lucas said politely as he shook hands with one of his father's business partners.
"The pleasure is mine."
As soon as the conversation ended, Lucas led Clara away from the crowd.
The farther they walked.
The quieter it became.
Finally, they entered an empty VIP lounge.
The door clicked shut.
Lucas pulled her into his arms without hesitation.
Their lips met hungrily.
His hands tightened around her waist while Clara smiled against his lips.
After several moments, she pulled away just enough to study his face.
"Lucas..."
Her voice softened.
"Do you really love me?"
Lucas frowned.
"Why would you ask that?"
She lowered her eyes.
"Sometimes I feel like I'm just another woman to you."
Lucas gently lifted her chin.
"You're overthinking."
He smiled reassuringly.
"I love you."
"As for your half-sister..."
He chuckled.
"She's nothing but a pathetic, motherless nobody. I'm only pretending to care about her."
A satisfied smile appeared on Clara's lips.
She leaned closer.
Then.
BANG!
A deafening gunshot exploded somewhere outside.
Both of them froze.
Another shot rang through the building.
The music stopped.
Then came the screams.
"What... was that?" Clara whispered, her face turning pale.
Lucas's expression darkened.
"I don't know."
He grabbed her hand.
"Stay behind me."
The moment they stepped into the hallway...
Silence greeted them.
The laughter.
The music.
The conversations.
Everything had vanished.
As they entered the ballroom, Clara's heartbeat nearly stopped.
Every guest.
Every waiter.
Every bodyguard.
Was kneeling.
Even her father.
Several heavily armed men stood around the hall, rifles aimed at the heads of the guests.
No one dared move.
No one dared breathe.
At the center of the room sat a man dressed in an immaculate black suit.
His legs were crossed.
One hand rested lazily on the armrest while the other slowly spun a crystal glass of whiskey.
His expression was calm.
Too calm.
The terrifying silence surrounding him made him even more frightening than the guns pointed at everyone's heads.
Clara felt her blood run cold.
Her knees almost gave out.
She knew exactly who he was.
Derek Cole.
The ruthless CEO whose name alone was enough to make powerful men tremble.
His cold gaze slowly swept across the room.
Before stopping on the Kane family.
Mr. Kane's face had turned deathly pale.
Cold sweat rolled down his forehead.
He knew this visit wasn't social.
Derek Cole had come to collect a debt.
And tonight.
Someone was going to pay.
The crystal chandeliers bathed the grand ballroom in golden light as laughter echoed through the hall.
Elegant ladies glided across the polished marble floor in glittering gowns while businessmen exchanged handshakes worth millions. Waiters moved gracefully between the guests carrying trays of champagne and expensive wine.
Everything looked perfect.
Exactly as it should.
Clara smiled proudly as she linked arms with Lucas.
"This party is incredible," she whispered.
Lucas chuckled.
"My father invited almost every influential family in the country."
She looked around in admiration.
Politicians.
CEOs.
Celebrities.
Everyone who mattered was here.
For a brief moment.
She felt untouchable.
Lucas leaned closer.
"Come with me."
He led her away from the crowd and into a private VIP lounge.
The noise from the ballroom faded the moment the door closed.
Lucas wrapped an arm around her waist.
"You look beautiful tonight."
Clara smiled shyly.
"You always say that."
"Because it's always true."
He lowered his head and kissed her.
Their kiss grew deeper.
Longer.
The world outside no longer existed.
Then
A loud crash echoed somewhere beyond the room.
Lucas paused.
Clara frowned.
"What was that?"
He listened for a moment before shaking his head.
"Probably one of the waiters."
She nodded.
The music outside continued.
The guests were still laughing.
Everything seemed normal.
They resumed kissing.
Several seconds later.
Another sound.
This time.
Much louder.
BANG!
It sounded like something heavy hitting the floor.
Lucas immediately stepped away.
"Did you hear that?"
Clara slowly nodded.
"I... I don't think that was an accident."
Silence followed.
An uncomfortable silence.
No laughter.
No music.
Nothing.
Clara's heartbeat quickened.
"Why did the music stop?"
Lucas frowned.
"It shouldn't have."
He walked toward the door but hesitated before opening it.
Something didn't feel right.
The hallway outside was strangely empty.
Moments ago, servants had been walking back and forth.
Now.
There wasn't a single person.
The silence felt unnatural.
Clara swallowed hard.
"Lucas..."
"I know."
They slowly walked toward the ballroom.
With every step.
The silence became heavier.
Then they noticed it.
A wine glass lying on the floor.
Broken.
Red wine spread across the white marble like fresh blood.
A serving tray had been abandoned nearby.
Someone had dropped everything.
And run.
Clara's breathing became uneven.
"Lucas..."
No answer.
He was staring ahead.
His expression had completely changed.
The entrance to the ballroom was only a few feet away.
Neither of them wanted to go inside.
But they had to know.
Lucas slowly pushed open the massive doors.
The room came into view.
Clara's heart nearly stopped.
Every guest was on their knees.
Not one person dared lift their head.
Several men dressed in black tactical suits stood around the ballroom, rifles pointed directly at the crowd.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
Even the sound of breathing seemed forbidden.
At the center of it all.
A man sat calmly in a leather chair that hadn't been there before.
One leg crossed over the other.
His fingers tapped lazily against the armrest.
He didn't need a weapon.
The dozens of armed guards surrounding him were enough.
His icy eyes slowly swept across the terrified guests.
The room grew even colder.
Clara felt her knees weaken.
She knew that face.
Everyone did.
There was only one man in the country who could silence an entire ballroom without saying a single word.
Derek Cole.
The ruthless CEO.
The man whose name alone made powerful families disappear overnight.
And tonight.
He hadn't come to negotiate.
He had come for someone.
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