The elite circle of New York had a sick tradition. Every year, they selected someone from the bottom of the social ladder to play their "Hunting Game." Whoever broke the prey first, won. On the deck of a luxury yacht, the Sterling heiress threw a blank check directly at my face. "Still thinking about your dead mechanic husband? Get on your knees and bark like a dog for me today, and I’ll pay your father's medical bills." I knelt rigidly on the shattered glass scattered across the floor. Two years ago, I married a mechanic named Jules. He was poor, but he treated me like I was his whole world. Then, Victoria Sterling selected Jules as her prey. To break him for her own twisted amusement, Victoria humiliated him relentlessly. She forced him into an illegal street race in a junk car with severed brake lines. The car careened off a cliff. Jules’s body was never found. My father went to the Sterlings to demand justice, only to have both his legs broken, leaving him bedridden. The double trauma broke my mother’s mind, and she wandered off into a blinding snowstorm, never to be seen again. To find the evidence of the Sterling family's murderous game, I spent the following year meticulously orchestrating my own downfall, ensuring I would be chosen as the new prey. My goal was simple: use the game to get close to the mysterious mastermind behind it all—Victoria’s fiancé. My memories were interrupted as the VIP booth doors slowly pushed open. Victoria threw herself into the arms of the man walking in. "Julian, you lose," she gloated. "You bet that she’d remember your past romance and choose death over losing her pride. But look—for a few hundred grand in medical bills, she’s kneeling right here like a good girl." I raised my head, quietly staring at the face that was currently the center of New York’s high society. I remembered the day I first met Victoria Sterling’s fiancé. That was the day I discovered that the ruthless billionaire I was risking my life to destroy, and the sweet mechanic who used to share my bed, were the exact same person. ...... Julian Vance lowered his eyes, his tone light and indifferent. "A loss is a loss. It's just a few hundred grand. As long as you're happy." The booth erupted into a chorus of laughter. Victoria stepped on the check, looking down at me from her pedestal. "Hear that? In Julian's eyes, you are nothing but a bet." I didn't say a word. I just reached out to pick up the check. My father was lying in an ICU with necrotic legs, hooked up to tubes, burning through thousands of dollars the second he opened his eyes every morning. As long as he was alive, let alone kneeling, if Victoria told me to crawl out of this room on my stomach, I would do it. Just as my fingertips brushed the paper, Victoria suddenly kicked it into a spilled puddle of alcohol. "What's the rush? The dog hasn't barked yet." The laughter around me grew louder. I slowly curled my fingers into fists. A year ago, when I first boarded this yacht, I thought I still had a shred of dignity left. I had exhausted every option to infiltrate this party, just to get close to Victoria and find proof of what she did to Jules. But I never expected that, standing in the center of the glittering crowd, I would see the face I had traced in my dreams a thousand times. He was wearing a bespoke suit, his eyes aristocratic and cold. Victoria had linked her arm through his, smiling at me. "Let's reintroduce ourselves. This is my fiancé." In that moment, I had lunged forward and ripped open his dress shirt. On the left side of his abdomen, the scar from when he took a knife for me was still there. He was Jules. The mechanic who used to pick me up on a beat-up motorcycle, who bought me a small slice of cake on payday, who held me and promised to give me a good life. And the dead husband whose body was supposedly lost to the cliffs. I asked him why he lied to me. He simply and calmly adjusted his shirt, his voice devoid of emotion. "Evelyn, those two years were just the longest game I ever played." Victoria had laughed and handed me a bank card. She said that since Julian once had a sliver of genuine affection for me, as long as I stayed and behaved, she would cover my father's medical bills. And so, for the past year, I lived in his mansion, serving as a disposable toy at their beck and call. "What are you spacing out for?" Victoria swirled her wine glass. "Bark." I lowered my eyes, my throat impossibly dry. Just as I opened my mouth, a wealthy frat boy beside us suddenly laughed. "Just barking is boring. I heard you bottom-feeders get serial numbers tattooed on your backs. Strip and let us see." He grabbed the collar of my dress. The fabric tore loudly, instantly exposing my shoulder to the freezing air. I instinctively covered my chest, but another man pinned my wrists down. "Playing the virgin martyr now? You climbed into Mr. Vance's bed, but you're afraid of us looking?" "I heard Victoria tattooed that number on her herself." Someone tugged at the hem of my dress; someone else pulled out a phone to record. I struggled desperately. Victoria sat on the couch, watching with sheer delight. Julian hadn't moved. He leaned back in the sofa, a cigarette pinched between his fingers, watching coldly as my clothes were ripped apart inch by inch. Until a hand reached for the clasp of my bra.Thud. The man pinning me down was violently kicked across the room. The booth fell into a deathly silence. Julian stood in front of me, his face terrifyingly dark. He took off his suit jacket and threw it over my shoulders, blocking everyone's view. "Who gave you permission to touch her?" The frat boy clutched his stomach, his face pale. "Mr. Vance, she's just a prey..." Julian stepped on the boy's hand, slowly grinding his heel down. "She is my property." With that, he bent down and scooped me up from the floor. Pressed against his chest, smelling that familiar scent of cedar, I was thrown into a trance, almost feeling like we were back in the past. But a second later, he gripped my chin, forcing me to look at Victoria. "Apologize." My entire body went rigid. Julian wiped a drop of blood from the corner of my mouth, his eyes entirely devoid of warmth. "You ruined Victoria's mood." "So, apologize to her." Julian didn't speak a single word to me on the drive back to the mansion. The moment the car doors closed in the garage, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me all the way into the master bathroom. I stumbled and crashed against the shower wall. Before I could catch my balance, freezing cold water poured down over my head. I shivered violently. Julian stood just outside the spray, slowly rolling up his sleeves. "Where did they touch you?" I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to look at him. A second later, his fingers clamped around my jaw, forcing my head up. "Evelyn. I'm asking you a question." I forced a mocking smile. "Didn't you see it all?" "Mr. Vance was watching so intently, why bother asking me?" His gaze instantly darkened. He aggressively tore off the ruined fabric of my dress, exposing the glaring numbers tattooed across my shoulder blade—017. A year ago, when Victoria chose me as her prey, she carved that number into my skin herself. It was a humiliation I could never wash off. Julian's thumb rubbed harshly over the numbers. "Did they see it?" "So what if they did?" I laughed deliberately. "Victoria was right. I'll do anything for money. As long as they pay my dad's medical bills, even if you threw me on a poker table tonight, I would—" He choked off the rest of my sentence. Julian pinned me against the freezing tiles, a near-uncontrollable fury surging in his eyes. "Don't you dare." I met his glare fearlessly. "Why wouldn't I dare?" "You can play the hunting game with Victoria. Why can't I play with someone else?" His breath hitched. A moment later, he let out a low, dark chuckle. "Evelyn, do you really think you have a choice?" He leaned in, whispering directly into my ear. "Your father's hospital room, your monthly medication, even every breath of oxygen pumped through his ventilator—it’s all provided by me." "Without me, he won't survive the night." The color drained from my face. Julian knew exactly where to slide the knife to make it hurt the most. He used to know that I hated the cold, that I had a low tolerance for pain, that I liked to press my cold feet against his calves when we slept. But now, he only used that intimate knowledge as a weapon to torture me. The water was getting colder. I lowered my eyes, suppressing every ounce of hatred in my soul, and proactively wrapped my arms around his waist. "Jules." The second that name slipped from my lips, his body went rigid. I pressed my face against his chest, letting my voice tremble. "I was just afraid you didn't want me anymore." His hands hovered in mid-air. I knew he didn't believe me. But I also knew he was completely incapable of resisting that name. After a long pause, he turned off the shower, wrapped me in a thick towel, and carried me back to the bedroom. "Don't call me that." His words were harsh, but his arms didn't loosen their grip. I curled submissively in his embrace, watching as he retrieved the first-aid kit and knelt by the bed to clean my cuts. The posture was exactly the same as before. Back then, if I nicked my finger chopping vegetables, he would turn pale with anxiety. Now, my knees were bruised and bleeding, but his eyes held nothing but suppressed possessiveness. After bandaging my wounds, he went to his study. I knew my opportunity had arrived. Over the past year, I had memorized the blind spots of every security camera in this mansion. The only thing I hadn't managed to crack was the safe in his study. I slipped on a robe and followed him, wrapping my arms around him from behind. "It hurts." Julian stopped in his tracks. "The painkillers are in the drawer." "Get them for me." He shot me a cold glare, but he didn't push me away. The safe was hidden in a secret compartment behind the bookshelf. Julian shifted his body to block my line of sight as he punched in the code. But he forgot about the decorative mirror positioned on the opposite wall. Resting my head on his shoulder, I watched his fingers press the numbers perfectly in the reflection.071709. July 17th—our wedding anniversary. And 09—2009, the year we first met. It felt like an invisible hand had ruthlessly crushed my heart. He remembered our past so vividly, yet he could stand by and watch my family be destroyed, watch me kneel like a dog before Victoria, begging for scraps. By the time Julian took out the medicine and turned around, I had already plastered on a fawning smile. He wiped a stray drop of water from my cheek, his gaze unreadable. "Why didn't you beg me tonight?" I asked softly, "If I begged you, would you have saved me?" He didn't answer. I stood on my tiptoes and brushed my lips against his. "Julian Vance... is it that you just can't stand other people touching your toys, or is it that you still can't let me go?" His pupils contracted sharply. Right at that moment, the sharp click of high heels echoed from the hallway. The study door was shoved open. Victoria stood in the doorway. Her eyes dropped to the red marks on my neck, and her smile instantly vanished. "Evelyn." She stared at me, enunciating every word. "It seems I've been too kind to you lately." Victoria didn't throw a tantrum in front of Julian. Instead, she linked her arm affectionately through mine and announced she was taking me out to "see the world." Julian leaned against his desk, expressionless. "She's injured." "Relax," Victoria smiled sweetly. "I'm just taking her to play a few rounds. I promise I'll return her to you in one piece." Julian looked at me. "Do what you want." Those four words completely sealed my fate. The car eventually pulled up to the largest underground casino in the city. Victoria shoved me into the center of the highest-stakes table and hung a silver plaque around my neck that read: Collateral. "We're playing big tonight." She shoved a mountain of chips onto the table and pointed at me with a smirk. "If I lose, she belongs to you." The eyes of the wealthy men around the table instantly lit up with predatory hunger. I lowered my voice. "Victoria, Julian told you to bring me back in one piece." She leaned in, whispering into my ear. "As long as you're still breathing, you're in one piece." Less than half an hour into the game, she lost every single chip. A man reeking of liquor grabbed me by the waist and slammed me down onto the poker table. "Miss Sterling is generous indeed." He shoved my dress up, and the room erupted into excited whistles. I fought with everything I had, but multiple pairs of hands pinned me down. Victoria sat on the sidelines, sipping her cocktail, thoroughly enjoying my degradation. "Evelyn, aren't you a master at seducing men? Get your fill tonight." The man's hand reached for my chest. My fingers brushed against a heavy crystal ashtray on the table. I grabbed it and smashed it into his skull with all my might. Blood splattered across the green felt. Screaming, the man clutched his head and collapsed. Taking advantage of the chaos, I scrambled off the table, but before I could take three steps, a bodyguard grabbed me by the hair and dragged me backward. Victoria strutted over and slapped me so hard my ears rang. "Ungrateful bitch." She snatched a steel baton from her bodyguard and aimed it at my right hand. "This hand loves to cling to people, doesn't it?" she smiled cruelly. "Let's see how well you seduce men when it's shattered into pieces." The steel baton swung high into the air. As it came crashing down, a hand firmly caught it mid-air. Julian stood just outside the crowd, his black shirt carrying the chill of the night air. His gaze swept over my torn dress, then landed on the hands holding me down. The entire casino went dead silent. Victoria's face paled slightly. "Julian, what are you doing here?" He didn't answer her. He just walked slowly toward me. The wealthy men awkwardly laughed and let go of me. "Mr. Vance, it's just a game." "A game?" Julian repeated the word. Suddenly, he grabbed one of the men's wrists and violently twisted it backward. A sickening crack echoed through the room. The man dropped to his knees, screaming in agony. Julian didn't even blink. "Victoria, Evelyn is my toy. Even if she needs to be broken, I will be the one to break her." He took off his coat, wrapped it around me, and lifted me off the floor. As he passed Victoria, he said coldly, "This is the last time." Once Julian brought me back to the mansion, his private doctor was summoned immediately. After patching up my wounds, Julian stood by the bed, watching me for a long time. "Why did you go to the casino tonight?" I kept my eyes closed and didn't answer. He probably thought I stayed by Victoria's side just to get closer to him. But for the past year, I served Victoria, poured her tea, and endured her torture—not for a man who had already betrayed me. I did it for the seventeen hunting files. Two years ago, when my father demanded justice from the Sterlings, they shattered his legs. Unable to bear the trauma of a crippled husband and a murdered son-in-law, my mother lost her mind and vanished into the snow. I refused to believe it was all a coincidence. Following the clues my father left behind, I discovered that this syndicate of elite heirs was running a "Hunting Game." They specifically targeted ordinary people—poor, weak, and without connections—designing elaborate traps and placing bets for entertainment. Some victims were driven to financial ruin, others tortured into insanity. Some died without ever knowing that their entire tragedy was just a game on a billionaire's poker table. And all the game records were securely held by the Vance family. They were both trophies and mutual blackmail to keep the syndicate in line. When Julian finally turned to leave, I opened my eyes. "Julian." He stopped. Staring at his back, I asked softly, "Did you save me because you still love me?" He stayed silent for a moment before replying with absolute frost. "Don't flatter yourself." As the door clicked shut, I let out a quiet laugh. As long as he still thought of me as a pathetic, clinging, delusional ex-lover, that was enough. At 3:00 AM, Julian was finally fast asleep. I walked barefoot into his study, pushed open the secret compartment behind the bookshelf, and punched the code into the safe. The heavy door popped open. There were no jewels inside, only seventeen black files. Underneath each file was a photo of a young, vibrant face. Someone who had just gotten into college. Someone working three jobs to pay for their sibling's medicine. They were targeted by Victoria's circle simply because they were vulnerable, turned into disposable pawns on a betting table. At the end of each file was a list of participants. Victoria selected the prey. The others designed the games and placed the bets. The Sinclair family suppressed the media. The Vance family provided the funding and the venues. Almost every powerful family in the city was implicated. I flipped to file 016. The photo showed Julian wearing a faded mechanic's uniform, standing in front of the rundown apartment we used to rent. Clipped next to it was a legal agreement. [Julian Vance voluntarily participates in the game as 'Prey'. Victoria Sterling will coordinate a staged death. Upon completion of the game, their engagement will be formally reinstated.] At the bottom were their signatures. Even though I already knew the truth, seeing this contract felt like someone was ripping open my chest all over again. While he was holding me in his arms, promising to fix cars forever just to take care of me, he was already scheduling his fake death. The life I thought we were building was just his little poverty-tourism vacation. I choked back my tears, plugged an encrypted hard drive into the computer, and uploaded the files, videos, and financial ledgers to a cloud server. Then, I set an automated scheduled release for ten minutes from now. The files and decryption keys would be simultaneously blasted to the FBI, federal prosecutors, major news outlets, the victims' families, and offshore whistleblower platforms. Only my biometric fingerprint could cancel it. Just as the progress bar hit 100%, the green indicator light on the safe suddenly flashed red. My heart plummeted. The moment the safe was breached, a silent alarm must have been triggered simultaneously at the Vance and Sterling estates. I yanked the hard drive out and hurried toward the study door. But before I could even reach the staircase, blinding headlights flooded the front of the mansion. Dozens of armed bodyguards swarmed the property, locking down every exit. Victoria clicked inside in her stilettos. Julian walked in behind her, his eyes locking onto the hard drive in my hand. "Evelyn, cancel the upload." "There are too many powerful people on that list. If it goes public, they will stop at nothing to torture you to death." I slowly backed away. "So because they have money and power, the poor people who died just have to accept their fate?" "Julian, you can treat your own death like a fun little game, but those people are actually dead. They are never coming back." The countdown timer read five minutes. Victoria suddenly raised her hand. A bodyguard placed a tablet on the desk in front of me. On the live feed, an elderly woman with greying hair was tied to a chair. She was so emaciated she was basically a skeleton, yet she was tightly clutching my father's tattered winter coat to her chest. The blood in my veins turned to ice. "Mom..." In the video, the woman seemed to hear my voice. She slowly lifted her head. "Eve?" She stared into the camera, tears spilling from her cloudy eyes. I lunged for the tablet, but Julian grabbed my arm, holding me back. The camera shook slightly. The cold barrel of a gun was pressed against my mother's temple. Victoria stared at me. "Cancel the upload. Hand over the hard drive and the cloud access keys. Do that, and I'll give her back to you." I stared unblinkingly at the screen. "How do I know you won't kill her anyway once I give you the evidence?" Victoria took a step toward me. "You are in no position to negotiate." "Evelyn, didn't you want to get justice for all those poor people?" "Let's see what matters more to you: Justice for seventeen strangers, or your own mother's life." The timer kept ticking down. Julian tightened his grip on my wrist, his voice laced with a desperation I had never heard before. "Save your mother first. We can deal with the evidence later. Please." Thirty seconds left. My mother seemed to understand what was happening. Looking at me through the screen, she slowly, gently shook her head. "Eve, don't listen to them." The man holding the gun shoved her down harshly. My tears finally broke free. Victoria barked, "Cancel the upload!" I raised my phone. My thumb hovered over the 'Cancel' button. Julian visibly exhaled in relief. But in the next second, I bypassed the cancel prompt and tapped 'Publish Now'. Victoria's face twisted in horror. "Shoot her!" On the other side of the screen, my mother looked at me and smiled through her tears. A gunshot rang out. At the exact same moment, my phone vibrated in rapid succession.[All evidence successfully published.] The live feed on the tablet went completely black. I stood frozen in place, never to hear my mother's voice again.
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