Among the eight daughters-in-law of the Crawford family, I was the one considered an absolute lost cause. While my sisters-in-law were dominating the Forbes lists, I was maxing out credit cards on Rodeo Drive. While they discussed mergers and corporate restructuring, I only cared about my VIP quotas for exotic Hermès Birkins. In their eyes, I was just the brainless gold digger that Arthur, the youngest Crawford son, was blind enough to marry. I didn't care. As long as I could swipe my husband’s black Amex without a limit, my only job was to look drop-dead gorgeous. That was, until the Crawford Empire was cornered by a cartel of international corporate raiders, facing absolute annihilation. The opponent came in hot, using three massive overseas gold mines as collateral to completely drain Crawford Enterprises of its last drops of cash flow. The entire family was in a state of panic, and my father-in-law's hair turned snow-white overnight. The elite sisters-in-law exhausted every connection they had, but couldn't dig up a single piece of background info on the rival. The enemy sat arrogantly in the master armchair of our living room, forcing my father-in-law to hand over the Chairman's voting seal. Holding a cup of hand-poured artisan coffee, I walked down the stairs and frowned. "Where did this cheap wannabe come from? He's dirtying my sofa." Victoria, the eldest sister-in-law, yanked me behind her and snapped: "Get back to your room right now!" My husband instinctively covered my eyes, trying to drag me backward to safety. In the moment of extreme crisis, the entire family subconsciously moved to protect me. I reluctantly turned around, but out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the Patek Philippe on the rival's wrist. No way! The big boss who supposedly owns three global gold mines... is wearing a Patek Philippe with crooked hour markers? Chapter 1 "The cash flow is completely severed. New York just pulled all our lines of credit." Victoria slammed the encrypted satellite phone down. It hit the antique Persian rug with a heavy, muffled thud. The entire living room fell into a deathly silence. The Crawfords were one of the oldest, most formidable old-money dynasties on the East Coast. A family of absolute elites. The eldest sister-in-law, Victoria, was a ruthless M&A shark on Wall Street. The second sister-in-law, Eleanor, was a legendary queen in Silicon Valley venture capital. My father-in-law, William Crawford, had steered the Crawford corporate empire for forty years. And then there was me. Serena Sinclair. The wife Arthur Crawford brought home. In their eyes, the most pathetic, irredeemable gold digger to ever grace their halls. I was currently leaning back into my custom, Hermès-orange leather sofa. My head was down as I swiped through my iPad. On the screen was the exclusive exotic leather inventory list sent over by the boutique manager in Beverly Hills. Three Himalayan crocodile skin Birkins. Two diamond-encrusted Kellys. My fingertip hovered over the screen, hesitating. "Eleanor, did the European funds reply?" Victoria asked, rubbing her temples. Her voice was terribly hoarse. Eleanor shut her MacBook. She shook her head exhaustedly. "All rejected." "The enemy came prepared. They've drained our last liquid reserves." "They used three overseas gold mines as collateral to completely cut off all our escape routes." William Crawford sat in his vintage mahogany armchair. He looked as though he had aged ten years overnight. His gray hair was disheveled. His usually straight spine was hunched. Arthur walked over carrying a plate of freshly peeled Cotton Candy grapes. He sat down next to me. He pierced a grape with a toothpick and held it up to my lips. "Open." His tone was incredibly gentle. As if the fact that his family was facing bankruptcy didn't even exist. I bit the grape off the toothpick. It was very sweet. Victoria looked up at us, her eyes full of complex emotions. "Arthur." She spoke sharply. "Look at the situation we are in. How do you still have the mood to feed her grapes?" Arthur grabbed a silk napkin and gently wiped the corner of my mouth. His movements were light. "Victoria, you guys are handling the company." "Serena scares easily. Don't frighten her." Victoria looked like she was going to have an aneurysm. She turned her head away, refusing to look at us anymore. In her eyes, I was just a brainless vase who only knew how to spend money. I couldn't be bothered to explain. I tapped on the image of the Himalayan crocodile Birkin and sent a message to my private sales associate. "I'll take this one." I said it casually. Hearing my voice, Eleanor frowned deeply. "Serena, the family's accounts are about to be frozen." "Could you maybe hold off on buying two bags for right now?" Her tone was laced with suppressed anger. But she didn't scream at me. That was the Crawford family for you. No matter how much they looked down on me, in a crisis, they still maintained a sliver of aristocratic grace toward me. "Let her buy it." William suddenly spoke up. His voice was weak. "Arthur, use your personal offshore account to pay for it." "The Crawfords haven't fallen so low that we can't afford a handbag for our daughter-in-law." The hand holding my iPad paused. I looked up. I stared at this patriarch whose hair had turned white overnight. "Thank you, Dad," I said softly. Victoria let out a heavy sigh. "Dad, Vincent Sterling will be here any minute." She glanced up at the Patek Philippe wall clock. "If he forces you to hand over the Chairman's seal... what are we going to do?" William closed his eyes. His fingers trembled slightly. The roar of powerful engines echoed from outside the estate. Carson, the estate manager, rushed into the room, his forehead slick with cold sweat. "Sir, Mr. Sterling is here." Arthur stood up immediately. He positioned himself directly in front of me, shielding me. "Go upstairs," he ordered in a low, serious voice. His eyes carried a strictness that left no room for argument. "No matter what you hear, do not come out." I looked at Arthur's tense jawline. I didn't move. "I haven't finished shopping yet." I waved the iPad in my hand. Victoria took a deep breath. Suppressing her explosive temper. "Serena Sinclair." She marched over and stood towering over me. "Now is not the time for you to act like a spoiled brat." "Vincent Sterling is a psychotic shark who eats people alive and doesn't even spit out the bones." "Staying down here will only make you a target." She reached out. She snatched the iPad right out of my hands. And tossed it onto the sofa. "Carson, escort Mrs. Arthur back to her room." Victoria ordered the estate manager. Carson walked over. He bowed deeply. "Madam, if you please." I looked at Victoria's fierce, strict face. I actually found it hilarious. Even when she was furious, she was still trying to protect me. Terrified that a pretty, useless vase like me would catch the eye of a ruthless corporate raider. I stood up. I casually smoothed out the hem of my silk robe. "Sure," I replied breezily. I turned and walked toward the grand spiral staircase. My heels clicked sharply against the hardwood floor. Emitting a crisp, rhythmic tap-tap-tap. When I reached the second-floor landing. I stopped. I looked down through the wrought-iron railing. The heavy mahogany front doors were pushed open. "Mr. Crawford. I trust you've been well?" Chapter 2 "Quite an entrance, Mr. Sterling." Victoria glared coldly at the man walking through the doors. Vincent Sterling wore a bespoke silver-gray suit. A pair of gold-rimmed glasses rested on the bridge of his nose. A polite, cultured smile played at the corners of his mouth. He looked like the absolute textbook definition of corporate scum. He held a thick manila envelope in his hand. Behind him stood four massive, heavily armed private security contractors. They completely blocked the entrance to the Crawford estate. The air in the room instantly grew thin. Vincent ignored Victoria's icy sarcasm. He walked straight to the center of the living room. His gaze swept over the antique Persian rugs and the priceless museum-grade paintings on the walls. Finally landing on William. "Mr. Crawford, you're looking a bit under the weather." His voice was soft. Almost gentle, like a man showing concern for an old friend. "At your age, you really should take better care of your health." William gripped the armrests of his chair. His knuckles turned white from the force. "Vincent. Spare me the pleasantries." William's voice was gravelly. "Why are you here?" Vincent smiled. He sat down on the master sofa—the seat normally reserved for William. He crossed his legs. His posture was lazy, yet overwhelmingly arrogant. He placed the manila envelope gently on the coffee table. Very slowly. He slid it toward William. "Mr. Crawford, Crawford Enterprises' cash flow has completely dried up." Vincent adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses. "Your three major M&A projects in the European markets have entirely stalled." "The daily breach-of-contract penalties you're incurring are an astronomical figure." Victoria stepped forward. Planting herself between Vincent and William. "Those are internal Crawford matters." "It is none of your concern." Vincent tilted his head up slightly. Looking at Victoria. His gaze held a trace of mocking pity. "Victoria, your reputation as the Queen of Wall Street M&A is indeed formidable." He clapped his hands together lightly. "It's just a shame that in the face of absolute capital, personal talent means nothing." He tapped the manila envelope with a long, slender finger. "I have an agreement right here." "As long as Mr. Crawford signs it and hands over the Chairman's voting seal..." "I will immediately inject thirty billion dollars to bail Crawford Enterprises out of this crisis." Hearing this, Eleanor let out a cold laugh. "Thirty billion to swallow the entire Crawford Empire?" "Vincent, your appetite is dangerously large." Vincent wasn't angry. He maintained that chillingly gentle smile. "You misunderstand, Eleanor." "The market capitalization of Crawford Enterprises is evaporating by the hour." "In three days, it will be nothing but a pile of worthless scrap metal." He leaned forward. His eyes locking onto William. "Mr. Crawford, I am not negotiating with you." "I am informing you." Arthur took a step forward. Blocking Vincent's line of sight. "Even if the Crawfords go bankrupt, we will never hand our legacy over to a parasite." Vincent looked at Arthur. And suddenly laughed out loud. "The youngest Crawford son is as stubborn as ever." "I just wonder if that stubbornness is going to put food on the table." He leaned back into the sofa. And unbuttoned his suit jacket. "I forgot to mention..." "The three overseas gold mines I used as collateral to secure the debt from your creditors? Their market value has doubled." "Right now, every single one of your creditors is standing behind me." He looked at William's ashen, lifeless face. His tone grew even softer. "Sign it, Mr. Crawford." "Save your entire family from living on the streets." I stood on the second-floor landing. Watching this masterful theatrical performance. Vincent Sterling was incredibly thorough. He used the softest voice to deliver the most lethal stab to the gut. My father-in-law, William, suddenly erupted into a violent, chest-tearing coughing fit. Arthur rushed forward to rub his back. Eleanor quickly poured a glass of warm water and handed it to him. "Dad, please don't get worked up." Victoria spun around, glaring at Vincent. Her eyes were red. "Who the hell are you?!" "We searched the databases of every global mining conglomerate on the planet. Your name does not exist anywhere." Vincent stood up. And casually adjusted his cuffs. "Who I am isn't important." "What's important is that right now, the life or death of the Crawford family is resting entirely in my hands." He checked the watch on his wrist. "I'll give you exactly one hour to consider." "In one hour, if I don't have the Chairman's seal..." "The bankruptcy liquidation process for Crawford Enterprises will officially begin." He turned his head and looked up toward the second floor. His gaze landed with laser precision on the exact spot where I was standing. "I've heard the youngest Mrs. Crawford is a breathtaking beauty." Vincent's lips tugged into a sleazy, playful smirk. "I wonder... once Crawford Enterprises goes bankrupt, will she still be able to afford her Hermès bags?" Chapter 3 "Keep your eyes off her." Arthur whipped his head around. His voice was colder than absolute zero. He stepped into Vincent's line of sight, shielding me. His fists were clenched tight. Vincent pulled his gaze back. He casually brushed invisible dust off his immaculate suit. "Why so tense, Arthur?" His tone was breezy. "I was merely asking a question out of curiosity." "After all, a canary accustomed to a gilded cage won't survive long once she's thrown out into the wild." Victoria walked over to Arthur's side. And gripped his shoulder tightly. "Don't lose your temper," she warned in a low whisper. She turned back to Vincent. "Mr. Sterling, one hour is impossible." "We require time to verify the source of your funds and the authenticity of your mining credentials." Vincent laughed. He sat back down on the sofa. His posture even more arrogant than before. "Verify?" "Victoria, are you still in denial about reality?" He pointed at the manila envelope on the coffee table. "The credentials are all in there." "Reports issued by the most prestigious, top-tier valuation firms on the planet." "Go ahead. Verify them all you want." He narrowed his eyes slightly. "But I must remind you..." "For every minute you waste, Crawford stock drops another percentage point." William finally stopped coughing. He pushed Arthur's hand away. And shakily sat up straight. "Bring the files to me." The patriarch's voice was old, brittle, and exhausted. Eleanor walked over. Carefully unwinding the string closure of the manila envelope. She pulled out a thick stack of documents. She began flipping through them rapidly. As she read, her face grew paler and paler. "Dad..." Eleanor's voice trembled. "The documents are real." "The reserve assessments for all three gold mines, the extraction permits, and the collateral agreements... they are all legally airtight and authenticated." Victoria snatched the documents from her. Scanning the pages with lightning speed. Her legendary, highly-touted Wall Street investment banking experience was rendered utterly useless in this moment. These documents were flawless. Absolutely impeccable. They formed a perfectly woven web of death. Trapping the Crawford family entirely. "Impossible." Victoria muttered to herself. "A transfer of gold mines on this massive of a scale... Wall Street would have definitely caught wind of it." Vincent picked up an antique teacup from the coffee table. He gave it a look of mild disgust. And set it back down. "Victoria, the world is a very big place." "Not everything operates under the surveillance of your precious Wall Street." He looked at the despairing faces of the Crawford family. A glimmer of triumphant malice flashing in his eyes. William closed his eyes. Two trails of murky tears slid down his deeply wrinkled face. "So, the Crawford legacy finally ends in my hands." "Dad." Arthur dropped to his knees in front of William. Gripping his cold hands. "It's not over yet. We can still find a way." William slowly shook his head. "It's no use." He opened his eyes and looked at Carson, who was standing nearby. "Go to my study. Bring down the Chairman's seal from the safe." "Dad!" Victoria and Eleanor yelled simultaneously. "You can't give it to him!" Victoria bit her lip so hard it almost bled. "If you give him the seal, Crawford Enterprises officially belongs to him." William let out a heavy sigh. "If I don't give it to him, tomorrow the creditors will force every single member of this family onto the streets." "I am an old man. I don't care if I die." He looked at Arthur. His eyes filled with profound guilt. "But you are all still young." "Especially Serena." Hearing my name, I paused on the staircase. "She hasn't suffered a day in her life. She married into this family, and I will not let her suffer because of our failure." William turned to look at Victoria. "Victoria." "Go bring Serena down here." "Have her sign the divorce papers." "Arthur has an irrevocable trust fund set up in his name that is separate from the corporate asset package." "Let Serena take that money and leave." Victoria's eyes instantly welled with tears. She looked at her father-in-law, finally unable to hold them back. "Dad... Serena might not know anything about business." "But she is still a Crawford." William waved his hand dismissively. Cutting her off. "Go get her." His tone was absolute and final. Vincent sat on the side, coldly watching this tragic family farewell. He even casually crossed his legs. "Mr. Crawford, what a touching display of loyalty and honor." Vincent clapped his hands in mock applause. "It's just a pity that when disaster strikes, everyone scrambles to save themselves." "That delicate little trophy wife of yours has probably already packed her bags and is dying to run out the door." "Shut your damn mouth." Chapter 4 Arthur shot up from his knees. His eyes burning with red-hot fury as he glared at Vincent. If Victoria hadn't been gripping his arm with all her strength. His fist would have already connected with Vincent's hypocritical face. "Go get her." William repeated. His voice carrying the heavy, chilling weight of absolute finality. Carson wiped his tears and began walking toward the stairs. I watched this scene unfold. An indescribable, complex emotion spread through my chest. For the past three years. Almost everyone in this house had looked down on me. They resented me for embarrassing the elite, highly accomplished Crawford family name. Yet, facing total annihilation. Their very first instinct was to use their final trump card to eject me from the game and guarantee my safety. I took a deep breath. I turned around and walked back to my bedroom. I walked over to the massive marble wet bar. And turned on the custom Italian espresso machine. The sound of the coffee grinder was a bit jarring in the quiet room. I meticulously crafted a cup of pour-over coffee. The rich, dark aroma filled the air. Picking up the fine bone china cup. I clicked my stilettos against the floor. Walking down the grand staircase step by deliberate step. Carson had only made it halfway up to the second floor. When he saw me coming down, he froze. "Madam..." I walked right past him. Heading straight into the main living room. Every single pair of eyes locked onto me. I was wearing my seven-figure silk robe. My long hair casually pinned up at the back of my neck. I held a steaming cup of coffee in my hand. Looking entirely out of place amidst the oppressive, despairing atmosphere of the room. When Vincent saw me. His eyes lit up. His gaze sweeping over my body with blatant, disrespectful hunger. "The rumors about the youngest Mrs. Crawford certainly didn't do her justice." He stood up. Giving a slight, mocking bow. Putting on the airs of a polished gentleman. "Still in the mood for coffee at a time like this?" "I must admit, your composure is far superior to these so-called 'iron women' of business." I ignored him completely. I walked over to the master sofa. Looking down at the spot where he had just been sitting. I furrowed my brow in absolute disgust. "Where did this cheap wannabe come from? He's dirtying my sofa." My voice wasn't loud. But in the dead silence of the living room, it echoed clearly into everyone's ears. The smug smile on Vincent's face shattered instantly. A flash of venomous malice crossed his eyes. But it was quickly masked by his cultured facade. "The Mrs. Crawford has quite a sense of humor." Victoria's face drained of color. She grabbed my arm and yanked me forcefully behind her. "Get back to your room right now!" She hissed, her palms slick with cold sweat. "You have no right to speak here!" Arthur finally snapped out of his shock. He stepped in front of me. Instinctively covering my eyes. Trying to pull me backward. "Serena, be a good girl, listen to me." His voice was tight with panic. "Do what Victoria says and go upstairs." In the moment of extreme danger. The entire family moved in perfect unison to shield me. They were terrified I would enrage the psychopath holding the power of life and death over the Crawford empire. "Mr. Crawford." Vincent's voice dropped to a freezing temperature. Dropping the gentleman act entirely. "It seems the Crawford family truly won't shed a tear until they see the coffin." "Since this little trophy wife has so much backbone." "We can skip signing the divorce papers." "You can all go to hell together." He pulled his phone from his suit pocket. Preparing to issue the final liquidation order. William squeezed his eyes shut in agony. Eleanor collapsed onto the floor in total despair. Reluctantly, I pulled away from Arthur's protective grip. And turned around. And in that exact moment. I caught a glimpse of Vincent's raised wrist. As the sleeve of his silver-gray suit slid back. A watch gleaming with a metallic luster was revealed. A Patek Philippe. Grand Complications Celestial. The hand holding my coffee cup paused mid-air. My eyes locked onto the watch. No way? A billionaire boss... wearing a fake watch? I couldn't help but laugh coldly to myself. "Trying to play the international corporate raider." My crisp, clear voice cut through the tension in the room. Interrupting Vincent just as his finger hovered over the dial pad. I pointed directly at his wrist. "The hour markers on that Patek Philippe are crooked." "And those mining credentials you brought? I'm guessing you whipped those up using Photoshop, too?"
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