When my birth mother drugged me and dragged me onto tech mogul Mr. Holt’s yacht, I couldn’t help but laugh at the cabin door: “This boat is still as ugly as ever.” The fake heiress, Vivian Jones, thought I’d lost my mind. She pinched my thigh hard and clipped a micro camera to my chest. “Skyler, Mr. Holt has a violent temper and sadistic tendencies. You better scream loud later.” My birth mother, Martha Jones, coldly tied my hands beside her, her tone impatient. “We raised you all these years. Now it’s time to repay us.” “As long as Mr. Holt ruins you here, your sister will get exclusive rights and become an influencer worth millions.” “Sacrificing you to make your sister successful — you owe her that much!” As the drugs took effect, Martha stripped off my coat and threw me into the dark lower cabin like trash. No one noticed that in the dim light, I couldn’t help but smile. And no one knew that the “violent and unpredictable tech mogul” they spoke of had clung to my legs three years ago, crying and begging me to take him in. Today, they’d personally delivered me right back to his territory.
When I woke up, my head was still foggy. My hands were bound behind me with rough rope that dug painfully into my wrists. The yacht’s engine rumbled low, meaning we’d already left port. Outside the door came Vivian’s voice, barely suppressing her wild excitement. “Martha! Mr. Holt’s people said he’s heading to the lower deck now!” “Once the camera catches footage of Mr. Holt torturing Skyler, my livestream will blow up!” “Then Mr. Holt’s exclusive interview will be mine too, and the Jones family will be saved!” Martha’s voice followed, dripping with disgusting flattery. “Don’t worry, Vivian. I gave her enough drugs — she doesn’t even have the strength to bite her tongue off.” “Once Mr. Holt gets tired of her, we’ll use the video to blackmail her into giving up all her shares.” “This bitch grew up in the countryside. She’s trash in her bones. Serving Mr. Holt is the luckiest thing that could happen to her in several lifetimes.” Trash. Lucky. I leaned against the cold iron wall and smiled coldly. Five years ago, the Jones family brought me back from the countryside. I thought it was family calling me home. Turned out they needed bone marrow for Vivian, who had leukemia. After they drained my marrow, they threw me in the basement to eat leftovers. Meanwhile, Vivian took my design drafts and transformed herself into New York’s darling talent. Now the Jones family’s capital chain had broken. They were about to go bankrupt. They’d heard that the all-powerful tech mogul Mr. Holt was hosting a private party on his yacht tonight. Rumor had it Mr. Holt was violent and cruel, loved torturing disobedient women. So Martha, without hesitation, drugged my water. Packaged me up and sent me here to secure Vivian’s bright future. The drug’s effects were slowly fading. My fingers could already move. I turned my wrist slightly, and the micro blade hidden in my sleeve slid into my palm. Three seconds. The rough rope snapped. I rubbed my reddened wrists and stood up. I could draw this yacht’s lower cabin structure with my eyes closed. Because three years ago, I’d written every line of code for this boat’s smart control system. Back then, Ethan Holt wasn’t any Mr. Holt. He was just a stray dog, covered in blood, collapsed in a rainy alley. I picked him up, taught him to code, taught him business, taught him how to crush the people who’d stepped on him. He knelt before me and said his life belonged to me. Later, his ambition grew too large. To climb higher, he’d use any means — even wanted to lock me in a cage. I kicked him away, erased all traces of myself, and disappeared completely. Three years. I heard he went crazy looking for me, turned New York upside down. Never expected Martha would deliver me to him today. The micro camera on my chest blinked with a faint red light. Vivian’s livestream had already started. I reached up and pinched the button-sized camera between my fingers. But I didn’t crush it. If she wanted a livestream, I’d give her a real show. I walked to the cabin door and raised my foot. “Bang!” The heavy iron door flew open with my kick. In the corridor outside stood two bodyguards in black suits. Hearing the noise, they whipped around, faces full of shock. “You… how did you get free?!” I ignored them and walked straight out. “Stop! Mr. Holt’s prey dares to run!” One bodyguard pulled out his baton and charged at me viciously. I sidestepped, grabbed his wrist, and twisted hard. “Crack!” The sound of breaking bone echoed crisply in the corridor. The bodyguard screamed. His baton clattered to the floor. I kicked him behind the knee. He dropped to the ground with a thud. The other bodyguard backed away in terror, reaching for his radio. “Calling captain! The cargo escaped! She knows how to fight!” Cargo. They called me cargo too. I picked up the baton from the floor and walked toward him step by step. “This boat’s security system is the old version from three years ago.” I looked at him, my tone calm. “You didn’t even upgrade the system, and you dare try to stop me?” The bodyguard froze, clearly not understanding what I meant. I swung the baton hard at the side of his neck. His eyes rolled back and he collapsed limply. I stepped over their bodies and headed to the control panel at the end of the corridor. My fingers tapped rapidly across the screen. “Beep — ” System access unlocked. I took direct control of the yacht’s internal surveillance network. And while I was at it, I switched Vivian’s livestream signal to the yacht’s big screens. The show was about to begin.
In the yacht’s luxurious top-floor hall, dim lights set a scene of indulgent decadence. Vivian wore a haute couture gown, holding champagne, smiling sweetly at her phone camera. “Tonight I’m taking you all to see New York’s most exclusive party.” “I heard Mr. Holt will appear soon. Hit that follow button so you don’t miss the exciting moments.” Martha stood beside her, face full of smiles as she schmoozed with the wealthy merchants and socialites around them. “Yes, yes, our Vivian was personally invited by Mr. Holt himself.” “Soon the Jones family and Mr. Holt will practically be family.” The giant screen in the center of the hall had been playing soothing music. Suddenly, the image flickered. The music stopped. The screen showed surveillance footage from the lower cabin corridor. In the frame, I wore a torn dress, held a bloodied baton, and stood over two bodyguards lying motionless at my feet. The hall fell instantly silent. Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at the screen in shock. Vivian’s smile froze on her face. Martha’s champagne glass slipped from her hand and shattered on the floor. “What… what’s going on?!” Vivian looked frantically between the screen and her phone. Her livestream chat had exploded. [Holy shit! Isn’t that the girl who was tied up earlier?] [Those fighting skills are insane! She took down two guys!] [Didn’t Vivian say her sister volunteered to serve Mr. Holt? Why are they fighting?] [What the hell is happening? Is this kidnapping?] Vivian broke out in a cold sweat and tried to shut down the livestream. “Network error! This is behind-the-scenes footage from a movie! Yes, just footage!” Useless. I’d already locked her livestream backend. Unless I released it, she couldn’t even turn off her phone. I looked at the surveillance camera in the corridor and slowly smiled. “Vivian, didn’t you want me to scream louder?” My voice transmitted clearly through the yacht’s PA system to every corner. “I’m out now. How exactly do you plan to make me scream?” The hall erupted in chaos. All eyes turned to Vivian and Martha. “Mrs. Jones, what’s going on? Isn’t that your family’s real daughter you just found?” “You tied up your biological daughter and sent her to Mr. Holt? And livestreamed it?” “The Jones family will do anything for money — such despicable tactics!” Martha’s face alternated between green and white as she pointed at the screen and cursed. “Skyler! You little bitch! What are you doing!” “Get back down there now! If you anger Mr. Holt, our whole family will pay with our lives!” I laughed softly. “Pay with our lives?” “Mrs. Jones, you’ve got something wrong.” “The only ones dying here today will be you.” I gripped the baton and turned toward the elevator to the top floor. The elevator doors opened and five fully armed bodyguards charged out. Leading them was a scarred man — Ethan’s head of security. “Take her down! Dead or alive!” Scarface roared and all five rushed at me. I sidestepped the first one’s baton, chopped the side of his neck with my hand. Seized his baton and smashed it into the second man’s jaw. Blood sprayed. My movements never paused, like a precision killing machine. Three years ago in the back alleys, I’d fought my way through an entire street of thugs to protect that useless Ethan. These greenhouse-raised bodyguards moved like they were in slow motion to me. Less than a minute. All five bodyguards lay on the ground groaning. Scarface clutched his broken ribs, staring at me in terror like he’d seen a ghost. “Who… who are you?” I lifted his chin with the bloody baton. “Go tell Ethan.” “His dogs are blocking my path.” Scarface trembled and scrambled away. I stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor. The elevator rose slowly. I knew a group of clowns was waiting for me above. And one lunatic I hadn’t seen in three years.
The elevator dinged open. The air in the hall seemed to freeze. Everyone stared at me in horror, like watching a demon crawl out of hell. I walked out of the elevator step by step, gripping the still-dripping baton. The hem of my red dress was torn, exposing my pale, slender legs speckled with blood. “Skyler! You maniac!” Martha screamed and rushed at me, raising her hand to slap me. “Do you know what you’ve done! You beat Mr. Holt’s bodyguards! You’re going to destroy the Jones family!” My eyes turned cold. I grabbed her wrist. Applied slight pressure. “Ahhh — it hurts! Let go!” Martha’s features twisted in pain. Her knees buckled and she dropped right in front of me. “When you hit me, did you worry about my pain?” I looked down at her, my voice devoid of warmth. “When you drained my bone marrow, did you worry I’d die?” “Now you’re scared?” Seeing this, Vivian immediately put on a pitiful expression. She faced the livestream camera, tears falling on command. “Skyler, why are you treating Martha like this? Even if you’re jealous of me, you can’t hit people!” “Mr. Holt will be here soon. Apologize to Martha quickly. Mr. Holt is such a good person, he’ll definitely forgive you.” She was still trying to maintain her kind rich-girl persona. I shoved Martha aside and walked straight up to Vivian. She backed up a step in fear, but still tried to act tough. “What… what do you want? This is Mr. Holt’s territory!” “Slap!” I backhanded her across the face. Vivian spun half a circle and crashed to the floor. Half her face swelled immediately, blood seeping from her mouth. “You… you dare hit me?” She covered her face, staring at me in disbelief. “Hit you? So what?” I crouched down, grabbed her hair, and forced her to look up at the camera. “You love livestreaming, right? Come on, tell everyone.” “Those talent design drafts you’re so proud of — who drew them?” “That bone marrow that saved your life — who gave it?” “And the confidence you have to stand here now — who gave you that?” Vivian struggled desperately, eyes darting away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! Let me go! Help! Mr. Holt, help!” Just then, the carved doors at the end of the hall burst open. An extremely cold, oppressive aura instantly swept through the entire hall. Everyone held their breath, unconsciously clearing a path. A man in a black haute couture suit, surrounded by a dozen bodyguards in black, walked slowly forward. His features were deep and striking, his nose bridge high, his jawline sharp as a blade. Those pitch-black eyes radiated a chilling murderous intent. New York billionaire, tech mogul, Ethan Holt. Vivian crawled toward him like she’d found her savior. “Mr. Holt! Mr. Holt, save me! This crazy woman hit me, and she beat your men!” “She doesn’t deserve to serve you at all! Mr. Holt, throw her in the ocean to feed the sharks!” Martha also hurried over, kowtowing obsequiously. “Mr. Holt, please calm down! This girl is mentally ill. The Jones family will deal with her immediately. We won’t dirty your eyes with her presence!” Ethan didn’t acknowledge them. His gaze cut through the crowd and locked onto my face. He saw my torn dress. Saw the marks on my wrists. Saw the bloodied baton in my hand. The temperature of the air around him instantly dropped to freezing. Scarface followed behind him, pointing at me and shouting: “Mr. Holt! It’s her! She’s the one who injured our men! You must…” “Shut up.” Ethan’s voice was soft but carried undeniable killing intent. Scarface immediately went silent, breaking into a cold sweat. Vivian kept fanning the flames, oblivious. “Mr. Holt, look how arrogant she is. She doesn’t respect you at all…” Ethan suddenly moved. He strode forward step by step toward me. His leather shoes struck the marble floor with dull thuds, like footsteps on everyone’s hearts. Vivian and Martha exchanged glances, wild joy flashing in their eyes. They thought Ethan was going to kill me himself. The other people in the hall shook their heads, certain I was done for. Ethan walked up to me and stopped. He stood a full head taller than me. His massive shadow completely enveloped me. I met his eyes without flinching. Three seconds later. Under the shocked, stunned gazes of everyone present. The all-powerful, ruthless Mr. Holt of New York. Suddenly bent his knees. “Thud.” He dropped straight to his knees before me. His hands clutched desperately at my waist, burying his face in my dress. His broad shoulders trembled violently. A low, hoarse, aggrieved voice thick with tears echoed through the hall. “Baby…” “You’re finally willing to keep me…”
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "NovelMaster" app ? search for "390164", and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster