The spark of lust died in an instant, replaced by a piercing chill.

Lucian didn't even give me a chance to blink.

In that second, his fingers left my waist and clamped onto my chin.

He wasn't using much force, but the threat was enough to make my spine go rigid.

"It seems I've spoiled not only Axel, but you too, Vera."

He leaned in closer, my bloodless face reflected in his pupils, his voice a terrifying low whisper.

I winced in discomfort, but he showed no sign of letting go.

"Since you failed in your duties as a guardian, failed to properly raise my son, then you must stay until you have shaped him into the perfect heir."

Guardian. It was the only title I had in this house that sounded remotely respectable.

I came from a minor crime family from the West, one that had scraped together a connection with the Mercers through some unsavory dealings.

More than a decade ago, my half-sister was invited to a dinner between our families, and Lucian fell for her at first sight.

She married him, and the Rossi family enjoyed a period of prosperity, right up until she died in childbirth.

At that very moment, the Rossi family broke one of the cardinal rules of the underworld, violating smuggling routes and facing complete annihilation.

To pay back an astronomical blood debt, and after some negotiation by my Aunt Carmela, the Rossis' lives were spared.

But the price was me, the illegitimate daughter born from my father's drunken, one-night affair with a maid.

I was offered up like a sacrifice to the newly widowed Lucian.

At the time, he was unwilling to marry again but worried his young son would have no one to care for him.

Then he saw me, a girl who bore a slight resemblance to his late wife, Rose.

An eight-year contract cost me my youth and my freedom.

I was forced to leave behind the open skies of my small western town.

I became his plaything at night and a glorified nanny by day.

In the Mercer estate, I played every role except myself.

"I have not failed my duties. It is you who should honor your promise."

I met his gaze. "The contract is perfectly clear. Eight years in exchange for my freedom and my father's worthless life. The deadline is midnight tonight."

"Freedom?"

Lucian acted as if he'd heard a joke. He released my chin, the pad of his thumb idly stroking the red mark he'd just left on my neck.

"In New York, you have no freedom unless I grant it."

He turned and walked to the liquor cabinet, pouring a glass of whiskey. "If you're making a fuss over your status, there's no need."

He swirled the glass. "Since Rose's position has been empty for so long, you can have it. Give me a second heir, and I'll give you the title of Mrs. Mercer."

"No, thank you." I turned my head, avoiding his touch.

I was done being my sister's substitute, and I wanted no child of mine to be born into this sunless hell.

I walked to the desk and took out a brass key I had prepared, along with a thick stack of documents.

It was the key to the main vault of the Mercer estate and the ledgers of all the internal assets I had managed for him over the past eight years.

"I don't want your title, and I don't want your child."

"The key to the vault and all the laundered accounts. It's all here."

"I've already prepared for the handover. You can find someone more obedient to take over."

Lucian's expression instantly turned grim.

He swept his arm, and the stack of documents, the very lifeblood of the Family, scattered across the floor like scrap paper.

He didn't care about the money.

He strode toward me, snatched my handbag, unzipped it, and dumped its contents onto the desk.

Inside were the passport and ID I had hidden away long ago.

The mechanical whir of the shredder filled the room.

Like a cruel executioner, Lucian fed my passport, piece by piece, into the machine right in front of me.

I watched as my name, my photo, my only ticket to freedom, turned into meaningless confetti.

"You're insane!" I screamed, my voice trembling.

Lucian dusted the paper scraps from his hands, his expression returning to a suffocating calm.

Then, he pressed the intercom on his desk.

"Lock down the estate."

"Miss Vera is emotionally unstable and requires ‘rest.' Without my permission, she is not to leave these grounds."

With that, without even a glance in my direction, he turned and disappeared into the study beyond.

I stood frozen, a chill running through me.

I had to escape, even if it meant jumping out a window.

I rushed to the floor-to-ceiling window, my hand just about to push against the heavy glass.

CRACK!

A sharp explosion shattered the air beside me.

The antique Louis XVI vase next to me shattered, sending shards flying. One piece sliced my calf, drawing a thin line of blood.

I looked up in terror.

On the lawn outside, Axel was holding a high-precision, modified air rifle, the dark muzzle aimed directly at my face.

The eight-year-old boy wore a cruel, excited smile, as if he were playing the most thrilling hunting game.

Through the glass, he mouthed a single sentence at me.

"Papa said deserters get a bullet."

He reloaded the air rifle, its muzzle once again locking onto me.

"I'm warning you. Don't move."

"Next time, I'll have Papa get me a real gun!"

I tilted my head back, refusing to let the tears at the corners of my eyes fall.

I remember when I first arrived, my aunt told me, "You must treat Axel as your own son. After all, you are family, connected by blood."

And yet, after eight years, this father and son duo treated me as if I were nothing; one ignored me completely, while the other hated me to the bone.

At dawn in the Mercer estate, before the morning mist had even cleared, my Aunt Carmela burst into my room.

Just as she had eight years ago when she delivered me to this gilded cage, she was putting on her usual act for the sake of the family's interests.

"Vera, my dear niece, you can't leave."

She clutched at the hem of my dress, her tears flowing with perfect timing.

"The Rossi family's business in Brooklyn is entirely dependent on our connection to Don Mercer. If you anger him, we'll all end up dead in the streets!"

"Your father is still in a hospital, kept alive only because Lucian pays the bills! If you provoke the Don, we'll all end up in concrete shoes at the bottom of the Hudson!"

"Axel still needs you. How can you be so selfish?"

Calling me selfish?

Looking at this woman I was supposed to call family, all I wanted to do was laugh.

"Auntie, in these eight years, have you ever once asked me if I was even living like a human being in this house?"

Carmela froze, her eyes darting away.

A commotion rose from downstairs. A sports car pulled up to the fountain.

Then, the click-clack of high heels on marble floors grew closer.

A woman with flawless makeup walked in.

She had the exact same shade of blonde hair as my sister; even the curve of her lips had been practiced to perfection.

For a moment, seeing her, I was almost in a daze.

Over the past eight years, Lucian would occasionally bring home a woman who bore some resemblance to my sister. She was the twenty-ninth.

She looked more like my sister than any of the others before her. More than me.

"Aunt Vivian!"

Before I could react, a small figure darted past me.

Axel threw himself into Vivian's arms, nuzzling affectionately against her expensive silk shawl.

"You're finally here! This house is so stuffy, it has a cheap smell everywhere."

He shot a disdainful glance toward my room.

The maids were whispering in the hallway, their voices just loud enough to reach my ears.

"Is that the Vivian woman who's supposed to look even more like the late Donna? She certainly looks more refined than that bastard, Vera."

"Of course. Vera is a cheap replacement at best. Now that a better counterfeit has arrived, it's time for the bed-warmer to get lost."

Axel took Vivian's hand. "Aunt Vivian, your perfume smells so good. Not like some people, who always stink of paint and turpentine."

"Papa was right. Someone with no breeding isn't fit to be the mistress of the Mercer family."

My fingers tightened into fists. Though I was long since numb, the words still stung.

I remembered eight years ago, when Axel wasn't even weaned. He'd wake from nightmares every night, and I would hold him for hours, humming Italian lullabies to soothe him back to sleep.

The first name he learned to say wasn't "Papa." It was pointing at me and saying, "Vera."

Back then, he would wrap his arms around my neck and declare, "Vera, you're the best in the world!"

I honestly don't know when everything changed.

The child who once clung to me was gone.

Standing before me was a "little Don," the heir to a billion-dollar Mafia empire.

At some point, Vivian had made her way upstairs and was now standing beside me.

She put on a show of comforting me. "Miss Vera, don't mind him. The little lion is just brutally honest."

"Since you're leaving, you should leave Axel's schedule behind. After all...caring for Don Mercer and Axel is my responsibility now."

I ignored her gloating and turned to face my dear aunt.

"See? There's never a shortage of women willing to climb into Lucian's bed, or to be Axel's stepmother."

"One more or one less of me here makes no difference."

Seeing my resolve, Carmela seemed to realize for the first time that the niece who had been obedient for eight years was gone. She dropped the act.

She shot to her feet and raised her hand.

The slap landed with full force. My cheek burned, and the taste of blood filled my mouth.

"Ungrateful wretch!"

"Your father raised you! You will die in a Mercer bed earning money for this family if I say so!"

Carmela pointed a finger at my nose, her voice a torrent of abuse. "If the family hadn't sent you to Don Mercer to pay our debts, do you think an illegitimate girl like you would be living such a good life? You think you can just fly the coop now that you've grown wings?"

In their eyes, I was never family.

I was just currency for a blood debt, a bargaining chip to curry favor with the powerful.

Carmela raised her hand again, aiming for a second slap.

This time, I caught her wrist in mid-air.

"Enough."

I threw her hand back, my gaze as cold as ice.

"The Vera who could only cry and beg for mercy died eight years ago."

I took a deep breath and straightened my spine.

"I used eight years of my youth to warm Lucian's bed and slave away for his son. That debt has been paid in full, with interest. From now on, whether the Rossi family lives or dies has nothing to do with me."

Stunned by my sudden defiance, Carmela staggered back, still muttering curses under her breath.

I didn't look at her again. I turned to leave.

But as I turned, I stopped dead in my tracks.

Lucian was standing in the shadows of the hallway, an unlit cigar between his fingers.

His bottomless black eyes were locked on me.

Lucian just watched me, his gaze like that of a man observing a foolish pet trying to run away from home.

"Vera, don't be stupid."

He slowly lit the cigar.

"Without the Mercer family's protection, you won't survive three days in New York. Our enemies will tear you to pieces, and the loan sharks will sell you to the highest bidder."

"And that family of leeches, the Rossis, will eat you alive."

He tapped the ash from his cigar, his tone dripping with condescending charity.

"For old times' sake, I'll make an exception. Stay. You can live here with Vivian."

"During the day, you can care for Axel together. At night..." He smirked, his eyes sweeping over my body, "you can both serve me. This is the greatest honor you could ever hope for."

My stomach churned.

I had fallen for him at first sight. How could I have been such an idiot?

I once thought he felt the same way about me.

All the sweet nothings this man once whispered to me vanished the moment Vivian appeared, all because she looked more like my sister and knew how to be more submissive.

Only then did I understand that I was just another piece in his sordid collection.

"Lucian, you disgust me."

My refusal exhausted the last of his patience.

"You don't know what's good for you."

Vivian seized the moment, feigning the look of a frightened rabbit as she nestled against Lucian's arm.

"Don Mercer, is Miss Vera still angry? I don't mind. Even though I graduated from a prestigious university, I can learn..."

Lucian sneered and pulled a black velvet box from his pocket.

I recognized it from the document I had labeled "Account Ledgers." It was originally intended to be my severance pay for eight years of "service."

Now, he opened the box right in front of me.

The brilliant diamond glittered under the light with an ironic gleam.

He personally fastened the necklace around Vivian's pale throat.

"Beautiful jewels are only for obedient women."

Lucian wrapped his arm around Vivian's waist, but his gaze remained locked on me, as if he was eagerly awaiting my reaction.

He waited a moment, then finally realized my only response was silence.

I didn't throw a tantrum like I used to.

"Let's go, Vivian. Come with me to the private cinema, a place Vera was never worthy of entering." There was a sharp edge to Lucian's voice, a clear attempt to spite me.

As they walked away arm in arm, Vivian glanced back, giving me a victor's smile.

Only Axel and I were left in the hall.

"See? This is what happens to fakes."

He walked up to me, toying with a folding knife.

"The old-timers in the Family all say you're a jinx."

"Ever since you came here, the Mercer family has been plagued with trouble. You're a jinx."

But over these eight years, I had done everything a mother would do.

I stayed up all night when he had his asthma attacks. I once took a bullet for him during a firefight.

I had given all my love to this child who was not my own.

My heart was utterly dead. I couldn't even feel the pain anymore.

So, after all those days and nights, after eight years of pouring out my love, all I earned was this absurd curse.

"Fine." I nodded, my voice terrifyingly calm. "If I'm bad luck, then I'll give you back your good luck."

Without another glance at him, I turned and walked into the adjacent service corridor.

I should probably thank Vivian for showing up at the right time and taking Lucian off my hands.

Everyone assumed that with the gates locked, I couldn't get out.

But they forgot that over these eight years, fetching late-night snacks for Lucian and medicine for a sick Axel, I had learned every secret passage in this estate better than anyone.

I made my way through the dark, damp wine cellar and pushed open a dusty, hidden door.

The exit was on the hill behind the estate, where an unmarked black car was already waiting.

It was the ride I had arranged, paid for with private funds from my paintings and booked through an old acquaintance.

The driver was a silent man. Seeing me emerge, he immediately started the engine.

I pulled open the door and got in. Through the window, the Mercer estate looked like a giant tomb, one that had buried eight years of my youth.

"Drive," I said in a low voice.

The car started moving slowly, its tires crunching over the gravel.

The taste of freedom was so close.

Through the rear window, I took one last look at the colossal, luxurious tomb that had consumed my youth.

But in all my calculations, I had forgotten one thing: Axel, like his father, was exceptionally clever.

"Don't even think about escaping!"

Just as the car was about to turn onto the main road, Axel came chasing after us, a gun in his hand.

Down below, the bodyguards were shouting, "Young master! Those are live rounds!"

But Axel paid them no mind.

He cocked the gun as if it were a common air rifle.

The muzzle was aimed directly at my rear right tire.