I was a top-tier heart surgeon. The kind they gave a government-issued black SUV with diplomatic plates—armored, red-light-skipping, cleared-for-anything kind of ride.

I parked it at my fiancé Marco Varonetti's place so he could keep it in shape. Bad call.

One day, I got an emergency call: heart transplant for the Chancellor—yeah, that Chancellor, the one with state secrets ticking inside him.

I rushed over to Marco's to grab the car.

Right as I was about to leave, some rando slid into the back seat like she owned it.

"Mall first. I need a mani," she barked. "Then get the ice cream Marco ordered. If it melts, I'll kill you."

Excuse me?

"This is my car," I said, trying to stay chill. "I've got a critical airport run. You need to get out."

She rolled her eyes. "You're just the driver. Open those eyes and check the plate."

Then the maid chimed in. "Everyone knows Mr. Varonetti takes Ms. Caro out in this car. Nobody says a word."

I froze.

Marco used my federally issued SUV... to chauffeur her?

This wasn't just messy.

This was criminal.

Misusing a Federal Council vehicle?

Three years minimum.

Taking some random girl for a joyride behind my back? Bonus charges.

If the Varonettis had half a brain, they'd have Marco grovel, and maybe—maybe—the Council would let it slide for the sake of our engagement.

But then I looked at her.

Ms. Caro. Arrogant. Entitled. And completely unsalvageable.

She wouldn't budge from the back seat, and honestly, I wasn't in the mood to babysit. I turned away and started the engine. Lives came first. Marco could explain himself later.

I gripped the wheel and pulled out.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

She lunged forward, shrieking, clawing at the steering wheel. "You don't get to drive without MY permission!"

The car jerked. We swerved hard, headed straight for a wall.

I yanked the wheel and slammed the brakes.

We plowed into a flowerbed. Engine dead.

"Are you insane?!" I yelled, heart pounding.

"Don't touch what's not yours," she sneered. "Do it again and I'll cut your hand off, loser."

Classy.

I ignored her and stepped out to check the damage. Hood was dented, but the engine still ran. Small win.

I was about to slide back in when a pack of Varonetti bodyguards closed in and shoved me aside.

With her watching like she was a queen, they took the front seats.

"Think you can disrespect Ms. Caro and walk away?" one of them snapped. "You're lucky we don't skin you alive."

Wait, these guys were taking orders from her?

I turned to the maid, who was just standing there.

"Who even is she?"

She scoffed. "You don't know Ms. Caro? She's Mr. Varonetti's favorite intern assistant. Sophia Caro."

I laughed.

An intern. Acting like she ran the show.

The Varonetti family? Total circus.

I pulled out my phone. "Let's see what Marco has to say."

Sophia tensed, eyes glued to me.

Since she was his favorite toy, I wanted to watch her squirm.

It rang forever before he picked up.

"Marco, using my car without permission's a public safety offense," I said flat. "Tell your intern and her goons to get out. If they don't screw with my mission, maybe I'll keep you out of jail."

Silence.

Then he laughed. Cold.

"Elena Ezzelini. Who do you think you are, asking me to shame poor Sophia for you? You really think you deserve that car more than SHE does?"

I went still.

The Varonettis had begged me to marry Marco—said it was to repay my life-saving work. Promised he had looks, status, and would take care of me.

I liked his photo. Said yes without blinking.

Never thought he'd side with her.

Did he seriously forget that without our engagement, his entire family would crash and burn?

I was the reason the Federal Council trusted them with those big-league contracts.

He was being impossible.

"You better think this through," I said, biting down my rage. "If you waste my time, Grandpa Donato's heart won't make it."

I was supposed to operate on Marco's grandfather tonight.

But if I couldn't save Chancellor Ravel in time, Donato would be stuck waiting—every minute more dangerous than the last.

"Enough!" Marco snapped. "Don't think I don't know you've been lying!

"I looked into it. That first heart procedure on Grandpa? Minor. Any doctor could've done it. You just tricked him into thinking you were special so you could marry in."

He grit his teeth. "Well, congrats. I'm not ending the engagement, but you're never touching him again."

My chest tightened.

"No—this surgery REALLY can only be done by—"

"Still acting, huh?" He sounded bored. "Sophia found a foreign heart expert. Surgery's been moved up. You're off the case."

Moved up?

And no one bothered to tell me—the lead surgeon?

If I wasn't stuck on this mission, I'd be sprinting back to the hospital to shut it down myself.

But I couldn't.

I was out of moves.

"If something goes wrong, are YOU taking the blame?" I snapped.

People waited months for a shot at my OR. Donato? He only got through because of Marco. Normally, he wouldn't even make the list.

If they didn't want my help, I wasn't going to beg.

Silence.

He hadn't expected me to fold that fast.

"Nothing's going wrong," he said quickly. "I'm fully responsible."

Click.

He hung up.

With Marco throwing me under the bus, the maid—who'd clearly been living for the drama—snorted. "Regretting it now, huh?"

She rolled her eyes. "Ms. Caro's not just some intern. She moved in like, a month after joining. Mr. Varonetti spoils her nonstop. Told all of us to treat her like the LADY OF THE HOUSE. No one dares cross her. Who do YOU think you are?"

Lady of the house?

I really thought I misheard. They had a "lady" before I was even married to him?

"You people really don't know Marco Varonetti has a fiancée?" I asked.

The maid sneered. "Please. He said once that idiot woman comes in, she can walk right back out. The ONLY woman he recognizes is Ms. Caro."

Sophia exhaled dramatically, flashing a smug grin—and the diamond ring on her finger.

I laughed. Dry. Bitter.

The Varonettis?

Absolutely unreal.

If I'd known Marco was this disgusting, I'd have never said yes.

I checked the time—thirty minutes till takeoff.

Miss this flight, and the whole mission's screwed.

"Last warning," I said coolly. "Delay me, and you won't be able to handle the fallout. Hand over the car now, and maybe I'll still vouch for you."

Sophia's eyes flickered.

Then she laughed. "You're just a driver. Your ENTIRE salary couldn't buy a single pair of my shoes! Even if I beat you to death, I could cover the cost without blinking."

No time to waste.

She wasn't moving, so I ditched the car and called a taxi. I had thirty minutes to make that flight.

I was steps from the door when something slammed into my stomach. Hard.

My phone flew. I hit the floor like dead weight.

Pain ripped through me—felt like my insides were tearing apart. Blood filled my mouth. I choked and spit it out.

Sophia strolled over, smug as ever, and dug her stiletto into my cheek.

"Trying to leave without apologizing?"

Pain seared through me. I couldn't move.

Sophia aimed her stiletto heel at my eye. One press and it'd pop like a grape.

Marco's guards loomed nearby, gripping bats like they couldn't wait for a reason.

I didn't stand a chance.

"S-Sorry, Ms. Caro..." I gasped, desperate. "Please... I have a patient waiting. I'm begging you. Let me go."

For a second, she actually looked surprised.

Then she yanked my hair and slammed my head into the floor.

"Lying to me when you're about to die?!" she shrieked. "You think playing doctor's some kind of game? You're not even a real driver—and even if you WERE a doctor, I could still kill you just like that!"

I tried to cover my head.

She stomped on my fingers.

I screamed, shaking, whispering, "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."

As a surgeon, my hands were everything. One wrong break, and I'd never hold a scalpel again.

"Scared now?" Sophia sneered. "Too late."

She pointed at my car. "Didn't you wanna drive? Let's make it fun."

With a flick of her hand, the guards rushed me. Tied me up. Dragged me to the back of the car.

I started trembling. I knew exactly what she was about to do.

"I'll die!" Panic closed in fast. "You can't—"

Smack.

She slapped me hard. Then tossed a fat stack of bills in my face.

"Twenty grand—for your life." The guards laughed. "Ms. Caro once ran someone over in this car without a license. Paid only ten grand. You should feel honored."

The engine roared.

Next thing I knew, I was being dragged across scorching pavement.

Sophia hit the gas and swerved hard, laughing as my body slammed into thorny rose bushes.

Skin shredded. Blood mixed with dirt and gravel.

I was wearing a light outfit—nothing to protect me. At this rate, I wouldn't make it.

Then the car stopped.

Sophia stepped out, moving like she was on stage. "Tsk tsk. I thought you'd at least scream. I've done this to five people. You're the dullest."

I couldn't reply.

One of the guards had already taped my mouth shut.

Satisfied, she climbed back in.

This time, she veered onto a sand road.

Grains sliced into my wounds, grinding deeper with every bump.

My elbows and ankles were shredded—bone nearly showing.

Pain blurred everything.

I wanted my heart to stop. Just give out. End it.

Right as I was about to black out—Sophia slammed the brakes.