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.
The drug crawled through my veins. Even moving a finger made my bones ache. I forced my eyes open, my vision settling on the hand-carved golden iris pattern on the ceiling. That was the Holt family crest. Before I turned eighteen, this flower was embroidered on the collar of every custom nightgown I owned. Beyond the door, Ethan's voice dripped with greed. "Summer, is the intel reliable? Will Theodore Holt really come to this suite tonight?" My best friend Summer couldn't hide her excitement: "Paid two hundred grand for information from his driver. He'll be here at eleven sharp." "When he opens that door and sees a woman who looks exactly like his first love lying in bed..." She sneered. "No man refuses meat served on a platter." "Maybe Mr. Holt will be so pleased he'll hand us that billion-dollar development project in the south district!" Listening to their gleeful whispers outside, I bit down hard on my tongue. The metallic sweetness instantly flooded my throat. I'd worked myself sick with exhaustion and stress for Ethan's pathetic company. I'd treated Summer like my closest friend. In return, they rolled around in bed in the apartment I rented with my own hard-earned money. And now they didn't hesitate to pimp me out like a prostitute, putting a price tag on me and sending me to someone else's bed. My stomach cramped violently. My nails broke off in the leather sofa, but the pain didn't compare to one ten-thousandth of what churned in my heart. But they didn't know—my father was Theodore Holt. His first love was my mother. But years ago, my dad had an affair with some starlet. My mother slit her wrists, and in my rage, I ran away from home. These years, my father and I maintained an unspoken agreement not to disturb each other's lives. He just kept depositing money into my bank account, afraid I might suffer. Ethan and Summer thought I was some helpless orphan squandering her parents' inheritance. That's why they dared to use me as a bargaining chip so brazenly. But while my dad was a bastard who betrayed my mom, he doted on me obsessively. Years ago, when some rich kid merely made a lewd comment to me, my father bankrupted him directly. If he saw me stripped naked and offered up as a plaything on his own bed by these scumbags... By then, even begging for death would become a luxury for them. "Oh, right!" Summer deliberately raised her voice: "Once we land the Holt contract, we should finally have our wedding. Let's get that diamond ring Olivia was eyeing but couldn't afford." Ethan laughed indulgently: "Sure. We'll use the money from selling her to buy you a diamond ring." I stared at the ceiling, the coldness in my eyes nearly freezing over. The intel was correct. My dad would definitely come here, because today was his and my mother's wedding anniversary. My mother committed suicide in this room years ago. Every year he came here to remember her. Every year on this day, countless people sent him women. This year's surprise just happened to be me. The next second, the door suddenly burst open. Ethan strode over and grabbed my hair roughly. My scalp burned with tearing pain. "Olivia, don't blame me. Blame yourself for being powerless and deserving to be sold cheap." "Tonight, even if you get screwed to death, you better make Mr. Holt happy!" Powerless? I looked at his smug face and my lips curved into an arc. "Ethan, you'd better pray that after tonight, you can die with some dignity." "Still talking back!" Summer stepped forward and slapped me hard across the face. My ears rang instantly. "Get her changed! Mr. Holt will be here any minute!" Summer smiled viciously as she tore off my jacket and forced me into a sheer, barely-there lingerie nightgown. "Just like a cheap whore." Summer patted my face with satisfaction. I lay on the waterbed, experiencing ultimate humiliation, slowly clenching my fists. Stripping a daughter naked and sending her to her father's bed. Truly unprecedented.
Next, Ethan and Summer grabbed me from both sides and dragged me out of the suite like a dead dog. At the end of the hallway, a dozen bodyguards stood with hands behind their backs, their oppressive presence hitting like a wave. The man in front strode forward. I half-closed my eyes and recognized him. Hugo Smith. Seven years ago, he was just a low-level bodyguard not even qualified to open doors for me. While I'd been wandering outside these years, he'd apparently become my father's capable right-hand man. Ethan and Summer's earlier arrogance vanished instantly. Replaced by obsequious, fawning smiles. "Mr. Smith, we've brought the girl for you." Hugo glanced down at them condescendingly. His gaze was like an ice-cold blade, finally settling coldly on me. "You know Mr. Holt's rules?" "The women sent to him must be completely clean." Ethan nodded frantically, bowing so low he nearly touched the ground. "Yes, yes! Absolutely clean, absolutely obedient!" Hugo snorted coldly, looking me up and down: "Perfect. Mr. Holt's in a bad mood tonight. He needs something to vent on." "If this woman doesn't serve him well, you two will be buried with her." Ethan shuddered and shoved me forward roughly. "Cat got your tongue? Answer Mr. Smith yourself!" I steadied myself, a cold laugh escaping my throat: "You're really asking for death." Ethan flew into a rage and backhanded me viciously across the face. "Bitch! I told you to answer properly, what the hell are you playing at!" I stumbled from the blow, my knees hitting the cold marble floor hard. The skimpy lingerie was torn, leaving me in complete disarray. Ethan hissed through gritted teeth: "Useless trash! You dare put on airs in front of Mr. Smith?" Hugo watched this spectacle coldly and finally spoke again. "Mr. Holt despises disobedient things most." "The last one who dared throw a tantrum in front of him—her ashes were scattered in the moat to feed the alligators long ago." Ethan and Summer's faces turned deathly pale, their breathing stopping for a second. I kept my head lowered, but from an angle they couldn't see, I slowly curved my lips upward. After my mother died, my dad chopped up that woman who'd challenged her and fed her to the fish. Since then, he both loved and hated women, torturing them mercilessly. My father's methods remained as brutal as ever. Thinking this, a bloodthirsty excitement flickered in my eyes. My abnormal reaction didn't escape Hugo's notice. He narrowed his eyes slightly, a hint of amusement flashing through them. "You've got guts." "Other women would've pissed themselves hearing about feeding alligators." He looked me up and down, his tone carrying some satisfaction. "Mr. Holt's in a foul mood tonight. He needs someone with a hard spine to take it out on." "Your fearless attitude might just suit Mr. Holt's taste." "If you can let the old man vent properly, maybe those of us below can catch some benefits." Hearing this, Ethan's eyes lit up instantly. He thought my half-dead appearance had actually caught Hugo's eye, and his courage swelled again. He grabbed my hair and forced my head up. My scalp tore with pain, but I bit my lip hard and didn't make a sound. "Look, Mr. Smith! This face, this body—guaranteed to satisfy Mr. Holt!" Ethan's eyes darted, then he lowered his voice, trying to build connections and fish for information. "Mr. Smith, may I ask... why is Mr. Holt in such a bad mood tonight?" "Also, I heard Mr. Holt's been looking for some white moonlight. What kind of goddess is she?" "Give us a hint so we can find women matching that standard for Mr. Holt in the future..." The next second, Hugo's gaze turned sharp, looking at Ethan like a cold corpse. "Mr. Holt's private affairs—you think trash like you has the right to ask?" Ethan's face instantly turned liver-colored. "Yes, yes, yes, I deserve to die for asking!" To cover his guilt and fear, he vented all his rage on me again. He kicked me viciously in the abdomen. My stomach churned violently. I curled into a ball from the pain. "Bitch! Get in there and serve him properly!" "Once you're inside, even if you have to wag your tail like a bitch, you better make Mr. Holt comfortable!" He shoved me hard and I pitched forward. I gripped the cold doorframe, enduring the stabbing pain in my abdomen, and slowly straightened up. Ethan had just asked why Theodore Holt was in a bad mood? I sneered silently. Probably because misfortunes never come alone. Seven years ago, on the day my mother died, I'd pointed at his nose and cursed him to die without descendants. None of his women outside managed to give him children. On one side, a rebellious daughter who was his only flesh and blood. On the other, his dead wife. Whose mood would be good? And just to please him, even his own daughter had to be pimped out like a prostitute and sent to his bed. Theodore Holt, I really want to see this. When that door opens, how will you explain this to me?
I pushed open the rosewood door. Crystal chandeliers overhead, handmade Persian carpets worth a fortune beneath my feet. The air was filled with top-grade agarwood incense, luxurious enough to suffocate. Seeing this scene, Ethan's eyes nearly popped out. "Fuck... how many hundreds of millions is that painting on the wall worth?" Summer's eyes filled with greed. "Any random vase here could buy our entire office building!" Ethan laughed obscenely: "Once this bitch serves Mr. Holt well tonight, maybe he'll reward us with a few things to play with!" I leaned against the door, expressionless. My gaze swept over the massive oil painting on the wall. The woman in it had gentle eyes. That was my mother. On the sandalwood table beside it, a family photo was partially visible. Seeing me stare fixedly at the oil painting, Hugo narrowed his eyes and warned coldly: "Put away that disgusting look." "A piece of trash who sells herself—you just happen to look somewhat similar and caught some luck." Seeing I had no reaction to his mockery, he lost patience and grabbed my wrist. His eyes swept lewdly over my torn nightgown: "If Mr. Holt hadn't specifically requested clean women, I'd screw you right here!" I curved my lips into a mocking smile. "This is how Theodore Holt manages his men? Looks like you really should be sent to the moat for a good lesson." Hugo flew into a rage and raised his hand to slap me. Just then, Ethan let out a shocked gasp. "Wait... why does the girl in this photo look so much like you when you were little?" He reached out to grab the photograph. "Touch Mr. Holt's things and you're asking for death?!" With a sharp, furious shout. A woman walked in wearing twelve-centimeter Louboutin heels. Vivian Jo. A partner under the Holt Group. She once volunteered to seduce my dad, and I watched him throw her out. But I never expected her persistence to pay off—my dad actually kept her around. When her gaze fell on my face, that pride instantly transformed into poisonous jealousy. "This face..." She grabbed my chin condescendingly, her eyes revealing extreme madness: "A lowly plaything putting on airs like this—those who don't know might think you're the mistress here!" "Kneel down and answer me properly!" I shook off her hand forcefully, my eyes flooding with unconcealed coldness: "Get your filthy hands off me! What makes you think you can make me kneel! Before you touch me, you'd better think carefully whether Theodore Holt will chop you up and feed you to the fish." Vivian laughed in extreme anger, her face contorting. "Seeking death!" She swung her hand to slap me hard. I jerked my head aside. Her slap missed and she stumbled awkwardly. "Who do you think you are?!" Vivian shrieked hysterically: I smiled faintly: "What if I said I'm the one woman Theodore Holt can never have in this lifetime? Would you believe me? After all, these years he's humbly begged to see me countless times, and I've always refused. That counts as another kind of 'never having,' doesn't it?" As my words fell, the entire room became silent as death. Vivian froze for a moment, then the malice in her eyes erupted completely. "Let's see how you'll be unattainable after I ruin you today! Someone hold her down for me!" Ethan rushed forward and pinned me down hard on the cold marble floor. "Ms. Jo, please calm down! This bitch is shameless trash who doesn't know her place!" "She's got cheap bones. Do whatever you want with her—cripple her if you like, I'll take responsibility!" Summer quickly followed, stomping hard on my hand braced against the floor. Ten fingers connected to the heart. Cold sweat instantly soaked my spine. Vivian sneered and picked up a paper knife. She slowly crouched down, using the cold blade to lift my chin. "'Never having'? It's just because you happened to be born with a face you shouldn't have." The blade slid along my skin, bringing the tremor of death. A drop of crimson blood slowly slid down the silver blade and splattered on the floor. "How beautiful it would be to carve the word 'whore' on this face!" Vivian raised the paper knife high, about to stab down viciously. Extreme danger closed in. I jerked my head up and screamed that name: "Theodore Holt, get the hell out here! If something happens to me, you're going to hell too!"
As my words fell, an eerie silence followed. Then came Vivian's uncontrollable laughter and mockery: "What a shameless bitch, already acting like a whore before even seeing Mr. Holt!" "But Mr. Holt's name isn't something a bitch like you can call! You're asking for death!" The next second, her eyes grew even more vicious as she drove the knife point into my face. Searing pain exploded like an electric current. "Hold her down! Hold her down tight!" Without hesitation, Ethan pressed down on my hands, smashing my entire face toward the cold floor. The sound of finger bones completely shattering. Excruciating pain made my vision go black. Cold sweat instantly soaked my back. The man I'd once loved with everything I had was now personally sending me to the slaughterhouse, acting as the executioner's most loyal accomplice. A burning line spread from the corner of my eye to my temple. Blood instantly blurred my vision. Vivian let out a deranged laugh: "Let's see how you act superior after I ruin this face!" Ethan fawned obsequiously: "Exactly, Ms. Jo! If you're still not satisfied after carving her up, just take some nude photos. Let's see how she seduces men after that!" Summer sneered: "Just cutting her face is too easy on her." "Why not strip her naked and throw her in the fountain at the entrance? Let her know the consequences of offending Ms. Jo!" I listened to their celebration, a metallic sweetness surging in my throat. Every wound they inflicted on me would become an epitaph carved on their tombstones. My father's methods would teach them what it meant to be unable to live, unable to die. The next second, Ethan reached out toward the neckline of my nightgown. I struggled violently, the last of my strength exploding in this moment. But Ethan's knee ground even more viciously into my spine. My bones made an unbearable grinding sound. "Stop struggling. You're just a piece of rotten meat ready for slaughter." Ultimate humiliation engulfed me. Vivian's smile grew increasingly cruel. She grabbed the last shred covering me and yanked hard. Her other hand pulled out her phone and quickly opened a live streaming app. "Just throwing you out isn't enough. I'm going live so all of New York can see just how cheap this bitch really is!" At this critical moment! With a deafening crash. That million-dollar rosewood door was pushed open from outside. A towering figure wrapped in thunderous fury walked in. "Who gave you permission to make trouble here!" The madness on Vivian's face instantly transformed to delight. Holding her phone, she spoke in a cloying voice: "Mr. Holt! Perfect timing! I was just disciplining a presumptuous new toy for you!" Ethan quickly looked up, wagging his tail like a lapdog: "Mr. Holt! We specifically found you a woman who looks exactly like your first love, absolutely clean!" "We only ask that you consider our sincerity and give us a chance with that western suburbs project!" My dad's footsteps stopped. His gaze passed through the crowd and landed on me lying in a pool of blood. He saw my face covered in blood and tears. That commanding presence instantly crumbled.
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