Margaret Blake approached the sack, a smug smile creeping across her face. She had no idea that it wasn't Summer Knight inside-it was her own daughter, Isabella.

Watching from a distance, Summer's eyes turned cold, a mocking smirk playing on her lips before she turned and left. She needed to catch Ethan Hart's car to the island immediately.

As she pulled her suitcase downstairs, Charles Knight greeted her with exaggerated warmth, rushing over.

"Summer, that looks heavy. Let me get that for you!"

Summer shook her head, setting the suitcase down. Fighting back nausea, she forced a tearful hug.

"Sniff. Daddy, I really don't want to leave you."

"I don't want you to go either!"Charles was just as skilled at pretending, his eyes instantly welling up with fake tears.

He desperately wanted to ask about Claire Ford's hidden fortune, but before he could speak, Summer cut in.

"Sniff. Daddy, I'm sorry I tricked you with that song last time. But I really do remember where Mom's treasure is. I'd tell you now, but Big Brother is waiting."

"You can come to the island tomorrow, Daddy, and I'll show you everything then, okay?"

"You're such a good girl, Summer!"Charles beamed as if he'd won the lottery.

That fortune would save the Knight family from ruin. Plus, with Summer marrying Alexander Barron, he'd be the father-in-law of the Barron empire's CEO-finally someone important in City Q.

The Knights would be the next big dynasty!

As he walked her to the door, Charles could barely contain his excitement, though he tried to hide his grin, his face flushing with strange delight.

But Summer saw right through him. That over-the-top enthusiasm was exactly what she needed.

The moment she saw his flattering expression downstairs, she decided not to have Grace Hill leak anything to Margaret.

No-she wanted Charles to see her on that island with his own eyes, then run back and break the news to Margaret himself. That would hurt so much more.

Because Summer hadn't forgotten-not for a second-that it was Charles and Margaret who drove Claire to her death.

She would have her revenge, and she would make it count.

-

Meanwhile, at the back of the property-

Margaret suspected nothing about who was inside the sack. Her face twisted with malice as she barked at the traffickers to bring the van around. Then, rolling up her sleeves, she prepared to lift the bag herself.

Just then, Isabella finally woke up.

Her head spun with confusion.

Where was she? Why was it so dark?

When someone touched the sack, Isabella flinched and began struggling in panic.

The sudden movement caught Margaret completely off guard, sending her tumbling to the ground, limbs flailing.

Her hand landed directly on the silver needle Summer had dropped earlier. A sharp, searing pain shot through her.

Margaret hissed, her face contorted with rage as she spat,"Summer, you little b*tch! Still fighting back when you're done for? Just wait-I'll teach you a lesson for what you did to my Isabella!"

Margaret grew angrier with every word, her eyes locking onto the silver needle on the ground. A dark glint flashed in her eyes.

Snatching the needle, she stomped toward the burlap sack.

Inside, Isabella had felt a flicker of hope when she heard her mother's voice-but it froze into ice when she realized Margaret had called her "Summer."

A jolt ran through her. In that split second, she remembered how her plan to trap Summer had backfired.

That b*tch Summer. Was she pretending to be dumb all along?

Before she could process what went wrong, a searing pain tore through her limbs-like her nerves were being shredded.

"Summer, you witch! Let's see if I can poke you dead!"

Margaret's face was twisted with hatred, her eyes bloodshot as she stabbed the sack over and over with the needle.

She thought she was torturing Summer's soul, but every jab was piercing her own daughter-the one she'd shielded all her life, the one she couldn't bear to see hurt.

Margaret's rage spiraled out of control, and she even began screaming curses at Claire Ford's ghost.

Inside the sack, Isabella was on the brink. Her face had gone ghost white, tears soaking her cheeks.

She wanted to scream, to tell the woman outside,"I'm Isabella! Not Summer!"

But her mouth was sealed with tape, her hands and feet tied until they were numb. She could only twist and writhe, dodging the next stab as best she could.

And the more she struggled, the angrier Margaret became.

All that hate Margaret poured into the needle went straight into Isabella's body.

Just then, one of the traffickers rushed over and yanked Margaret back.

"Whoa there, Mrs. Knight! Keep stabbing like that and she'll be dead. How are we supposed to sell her then?"

Only then did Margaret snap out of it. She threw the needle aside, breathing heavily.

But Isabella was already a wreck, covered from head to toe in bloody welts. Even the sack was soaked through with red-it looked like a scene from a nightmare.

Next, Margaret helped the traffickers heave the sack into the van.

Right before they left, she paused. Turning back with a sneer, she warned them to make sure they"treat"the person in the sack well on the boat. If the job went smoothly, she'd double their payment.

Isabella knew exactly what that"treat"meant.

Her body shook with terror.

No. She couldn't end up in that hellhole in the capital-not that brothel.

Once you're in there. you either die or never get out.

Tears flooded her face again, and she thrashed wildly in panic.

But the trafficker just slammed the trunk shut with a heavy thud.

Darkness swallowed her completely.

That's when she finally blacked out from despair.

-

Meanwhile, Margaret remained clueless.

She turned around, beaming with pride.

Time to head to the front gate and see Isabella off.

If that trip to the island worked? She'd be the mother-in-law to the head of the Barron Empire.

Unlimited money, gold everywhere, and those high-society wives in City Q would finally have to show her respect!

The more she thought about it, the more she floated on air.

She was practically skipping, drunk on her own dream.

But when Margaret Blake reached the front gate, Charles Knight bluntly informed her that Summer had already left.

She stared at him, shocked."What? That little brat left without even saying a proper goodbye to me?"

She seemed a little disappointed, maybe even a bit sentimental. But as soon as she remembered that her and Isabella's plan was nearing success, her face instantly brightened.

"You've never liked Summer anyway. Now that she's gone, why keep pretending?"Charles gave her a strange look before turning and heading back inside.

Margaret didn't care about his obvious disgust at all.

'Whatever. Once the plan works, I'm planning to kick Charles out too!'

-

In the car, thinking about what had just happened, Summer couldn't help but smile. Her bright eyes sparkled with amusement.

She was so pleased she even started humming to herself.

Grace had probably already handled the tasks she'd assigned.Tomorrow is going to be wildly entertaining.

As they stopped at a red light, Ethan Hart glanced at Summer's reflection in the rearview mirror and couldn't resist asking,"You seem to be in very good spirits today, ma'am."

Just imagining Margaret's face when she realized she'd auctioned off her own daughter? That gut-punch expression?Oh yes, Summer was definitely in a good mood.

Grinning widely, she joked,"It's such a chilly day. Of course I'm happy!"

The colder the weather, the closer the fall of the Knight Group.

She had vowed-after dealing with Isabella and Margaret, Charles was next.

The Knight Group was her mother's legacy. She was taking it back.

Ethan shot a glance outside. The sky was clear, the moonlight gentle, stars scattered across the night. The breeze was barely noticeable.

Cold? Where?

Also, how did cold weather connect to being cheerful?

But then he remembered Alexander's message-essentially giving Summer free rein.

That was explanation enough.

Both of them were. not exactly easy to deal with.

Soon, the light turned green.

As their car moved forward, a gray van brushed past from the opposite direction. Inside that van was Isabella Knight.

But each vehicle sped off in a completely different direction-toward completely different fates.

-

An hour and a half later, Ethan pulled up at Alexander Barron's private island villa.

This island had once belonged to Alexander's grandfather.

After the Barrons found him and brought him back into the family, he'd holed up here without ever stepping foot out.

To keep him from inheriting anything, the second and third branches of the family spread rumors all over City Q about him being hideous and temperamental.

Alexander, playing along, never bothered to deny it.

In the end, that "invisible" man pulled off something no one saw coming-he took control of the entire Barron Empire.

Everyone wanted to know how he did it-including Summer herself.

"Ma'am, we've arrived."

Ethan stepped out, opened the door for Summer, took her suitcase, and led her toward the villa.

At the entrance, Mrs. Thompson stood in a neat line with the rest of the staff, waiting.

The moment Summer appeared, a flicker of condescension passed through Mrs. Thompson's eyes.

The housekeepers greeted in unison,"Good evening, ma'am!"

But Mrs. Thompson gave only the faintest nod, her attitude clearly half-hearted.What's so special about some dumb young madam that she deserves my respect?

Summer Knight hadn't forgotten Mrs. Thompson-not one bit.

Back in the day, Mrs. Thompson had served at the old Barron residence, taking care of Mr. Barron Sr. He trusted her deeply and gave her significant authority, so she essentially ran the house like a queen. The place was crawling with staff trying to suck up to her-gifts, favors, flattery-you name it. Naturally, it made her arrogant and full of herself.

When Alexander was brought back to the family, the old man, feeling sorry for him, sent Mrs. Thompson to the island to take care of him. Let's be real-there was nothing on this island. She became the boss almost instantly, and with no one to challenge her, her attitude only got worse.

One wrong move from any staff member? She'd kick them out on the spot.

To be honest, if Alexander hadn't been so intimidating, she might've even tried to push him around too.

In her last life, after Summer married into the Barrons, Mrs. Thompson bullied her relentlessly. It was brutal.

But things were different now. Alexander hadn't fired her yet, so of course Summer was going to settle that old score properly. She wasn't that clueless pushover anymore-now she had the intelligence and the guts to put this arrogant servant in her place.

After Ethan dropped her off, he drove away immediately. Mr. Barron had given him another task-no time to linger.

The moment Ethan was gone, Mrs. Thompson's attitude dropped another notch. She shot Summer a lazy glance and turned to go back to her room.

A dumb girl like that? Not worth missing a second of my beauty sleep. What a joke.

But just as she turned around, Summer called out to her.

"Mrs. Thompson, where's big brother?"

She puffed out her cheeks, the picture of dumb innocence.

Mrs. Thompson paused for a second before realizing that "big brother" meant Mr. Barron.

At first, she had zero interest in talking to this fool, but then it hit her-why not use this chance to put the new madam in her place? Remind her who really calls the shots around here.

Suddenly all smiles, she replied sweetly,"Young Madam, Master Barron is waiting for you upstairs."

"Okay! Thanks, Mrs. Thompson!"

Summer beamed with silly gratitude and skipped toward the stairs. But as she passed by, she "accidentally" stomped hard on Mrs. Thompson's foot.

"You-!"Mrs. Thompson's face twisted with rage, her hand twitching as if she were about to slap her.

But Summer was quicker.

"Big brother, I'm coming to see you!"she yelled with exaggerated cheer.

Mrs. Thompson froze. She couldn't lay a finger on her now. Not with Alexander upstairs.

Alexander Barron wasn't just anybody-he now ran the whole Barron Empire and wasn't someone Mrs. Thompson could mess with.

Thing was, Alexander was upstairs taking a shower. And everyone knew how angry he could get-plus, he was a total clean freak.

The other branches of the Barron family had tried sending girls over before, hoping they'd seduce him while he was bathing or sleeping. Every single one ended up being dragged off to the back hill. where his giant Tibetan mastiff waited.

Even now, just remembering those women's screams sent a chill down Mrs. Thompson's spine.

So if this silly girl really walked in on Alexander mid-shower? With his temper? Even if he didn't have her fed to the dog, she'd probably be tossed out so hard she'd become the laughingstock of the whole city.

Thinking about it, Mrs. Thompson couldn't help but grin wickedly.

That girl was doomed to be her little punching bag.

Or at least. that's what she thought.

The next second, reality slapped her right in the face.

Summer Knight walked cheerfully upstairs and entered Alexander Barron's room.

It looked exactly the same as it had the first time she'd come here in her past life-cold, muted tones everywhere, perfectly matching the owner's cool and restrained personality.

Stepping into the place she'd lived for nearly a year before, her fingers unconsciously clenched. A faint mist clouded her eyes for a moment before fading into silence.

She'd never forget how, in her previous life, James Carter had tricked her in this very room. She'd handed Alexander that glass of red wine-thinking it only contained sleeping pills-when in reality, it was poisoned.She had been the one to kill him with her own hands.

This time, no matter what it took-even if it cost her life-she would never let him get hurt again.

"Big brother, I'm here to see you!"Summer called out brightly.

No response.

She glanced around but didn't see Alexander anywhere, though the sound of running water came from the bathroom.

Curious, she walked over and saw the light on inside. He was clearly showering.

She turned to leave-

"Who's there?"

That low, husky voice suddenly rang out from inside, rich and laced with warning.

Before she could react, the bathroom door swung open with a soft thud.

A strong hand reached out and grabbed her slender wrist.

In the blink of an eye, Summer was yanked forward, lost her footing, and crashed right into Alexander, sending them both tumbling into the tub.

"Ahhh!"

Soaked to the bone, Summer pushed herself up out of the water, only to find herself lying on top of Alexander, staring wide-eyed at the man beneath her like a startled kitten abandoned in the rain.

A few tiny droplets clung to her lashes, shimmering and about to fall-irresistibly charming.

"Get up,"Alexander growled, his voice slightly breathless. He couldn't take that oblivious expression on her face-the way she was both innocent and alluring without even knowing it.

"Oh-okay!"she stammered, scrambling to stand.

But just as she did, she slipped again, flailing her arms for balance. In the chaos, she accidentally yanked off the bath towel wrapped around Alexander's waist.

Alexander:"..."Was this girl doing it on purpose?

Summer:"..."If I say it wasn't, would you even believe me?

"I'm so sorry! Let me fix it for you!"she squeaked.

Her face turned bright red, like a ripe apple begging to be bitten. Panicked, she grabbed the drenched towel from the water and tried to help him put it back on, hands fumbling all the way.

Alexander's dark eyes grew even deeper. His breathing, which had just settled, grew ragged again-dangerously so.

He looked like a lone wolf lurking in the dark, ready to pounce the second his prey slipped up.

And Summer, completely unaware, was that helpless prey.

Flustered, she kept her head down.

Alexander drew in a sharp breath, desperately trying to rein himself in."Out,"he said lowly.

"Big brother?"She blinked up at him, clearly confused by his sudden shift.

Realizing he was being too harsh, Alexander softened his tone and repeated, more gently,"Go change. Then come back."

He glanced at the soaked clothes clinging to Summer's body-curves almost on full display-and his breath hitched again.

Every time he touched her, his self-control took a nosedive.

If she didn't leave soon, he might just lose it and do something right there in the tub.

Summer followed his gaze down to her wet clothes. Realizing what he meant, warm embarrassment flickered across her face, but also a little comfort-at least he cared enough to send her out.

Alexander threw on a loose robe before stepping out of the bathroom. He waved over a maid."Take the lady downstairs. Get her a change of clothes."

With disappointment written all over her face, Summer followed the maid out.

-

Meanwhile, the other staff wasted no time reporting the situation to Mrs. Thompson.

Mrs. Thompson was sitting comfortably sipping her tea when she got the news. The next second, she choked and nearly spat it out.

"What? You mean that idiot wasn't kicked out of Mr. Barron's room? He just told her to get changed and come back?"

No way! Mr. Barron always hated women barging in while he was showering.

If he'd really started to care about Summer, then it wouldn't be long before her influence in the house grew bigger than Mrs. Thompson's. And that couldn't-wouldn't-happen.

She had served Alexander for years, watching over this villa until he finally took over Barron Corporation. She wasn't going to let someone else reap the benefits.

Only she deserved to manage this place.

Then, a plan popped into Mrs. Thompson's mind-a way to make sure Alexander wouldn't hand over control of the household to Summer.

Since the second and third branches of the Barron family had tried sending women to Alexander before, why couldn't she do the same? Strengthen her position that way.

After sending the other staff away, Mrs. Thompson quickly pulled out her phone and dialed her daughter.

"Lola, sweetheart, when do you have time to visit Mom at the island mansion, huh?"

"You wouldn't believe it-Mr. Barron's inherited the whole Barron Corporation, can you imagine?"

When she hung up, an utterly smug smile spread across her face.

Her daughter, who'd already left one of the top four rich kids in City Q weak in the knees-how hard could it be to win over Alexander?

-

After getting dressed, Summer followed the maid back into Alexander's room, her steps hesitant, her mood complicated.

Alexander now wore a set of silken, steel-blue pajamas, sitting calmly on the bed, waiting for her.

Once the maid left, that cool expression returned to his face. He tapped the spot beside him,"Come here."

Summer obediently walked over, perching on the edge of the bed, maintaining a little space between them as if worried her closeness might annoy him.

Alexander noticed, and his eyes darkened again. He patted the spot closer to him."Here."

Summer pouted a little but still scooted over, falling quiet.

That whole look made Alexander feel like some creepy guy trying to trick a little girl into his van.

"Not talking? You angry?"he asked, side-eyeing her.

"Big brother doesn't like Summer, does he?"She puffed up her cheeks and looked away, feigning innocence.

Even if she already knew the answer, she just wanted to hear him say it out loud.

"How could anyone not like our sweet Summer?"

Alexander's lips curved slightly as he leaned in and suddenly pinned her to the bed.

But underneath her growing blush was a hollow kind of sadness. He still hadn't answered her properly...

So he really didn't like her, huh?

"Don't expect me to be gentle tonight."

With that, Alexander's cool lips pressed against hers-intense and unwavering.

But even as the heat between them rose, he paused, eventually pulling away.

Summer blinked, dazed, her watery eyes locking with the deep, inscrutable look in his.

Why was he looking at her like that?