Cassie pushed herself off the bathroom floor. Her legs still trembled.

She walked to the marble vanity and gripped the edges of the sink. She stared at her reflection. The angry red fake scars stared back. Right now, this ugly disguise was the only thing keeping her grounded.

She turned on the faucet, carefully cupped cold water, and splashed it onto the right side of her face, strictly avoiding the edges of the special-effects makeup.

She stripped off the suffocating wedding dress and pulled on a thick silk robe hanging on the door.

Cassie unlocked the bathroom door and pushed it open a fraction. She peeked out.

The master bedroom was empty. The bed untouched.

A massive wave of relief washed over her. The tight knot in her stomach uncoiled.

She walked to the velvet sofa near the window and curled into a tight ball. The foreign scent of cedar and expensive cologne clung to the fabric. Her mind raced with the terrifying events of the night. Her eyes stayed wide open, staring at the ceiling until the dark sky outside turned a pale, hazy blue.

Sharp morning sunlight pierced through the gap in the curtains, stinging her dry eyes.

Cassie sat up. Her muscles ached from the awkward sleeping position. The terror of the previous night was fading, replaced by a cold, calculating calm. Dane hadn't shown disgust. He'd looked at her with intense, searching scrutiny, like he was confirming something. If he wasn't going to kill her, she could use his power. This morning would be her first test.

She walked back to the mirror and carefully pressed down the edges of her fake scars, ensuring they were seamless.

She took a deep breath and walked toward the bedroom door.

She pushed the heavy mahogany door open and stepped into the hallway.

The sheer scale of Frederick Manor hit her. Vaulted ceilings, priceless oil paintings, thick carpets stretching out before her. The excessive luxury made her stomach churn. She kept her back straight, eyes scanning for threats.

As she reached the top of the grand spiral staircase, a man in a tailored suit appeared. Bradshaw, the butler.

His eyes swept over her scarred face. His expression remained blank, but the coldness in his gaze was unmistakable.

Cassie gave him a stiff nod and walked past.

She descended the stairs and followed the faint clinking of silverware into the dining room.

A massive crystal chandelier hung over a long, polished dining table. The morning light reflecting off the glass made her squint.

Dane sat at the head of the table, dressed in a crisp black shirt, sleeves rolled up to expose muscular forearms.

He lifted his gaze from his tablet. His dark eyes locked onto her scarred face.

Cassie didn't flinch. She walked straight to the chair on his right, pulled it out, and sat down.

A maid stepped forward with a silver platter. As the maid set the plate down, Cassie caught the flicker of pity and fear in the woman's eyes before she quickly masked it. Cassie ignored her. She picked up her knife and fork.

She cut into the fried egg and brought a piece to her mouth. Her movements were slow, precise, perfectly elegant.

Dane watched her. A brief flash of approval crossed his dark eyes.

Cassie set her silverware down. The metal clinked against the porcelain. She looked directly into Dane's eyes.

"I am not the daughter they promised you." Her voice was flat.

Dane picked up his cup of black coffee. He took a slow sip. His face didn't even twitch.

The total lack of reaction made the hairs on the back of Cassie's neck stand up.

Dane lowered the cup. "What do you want?" His deep voice echoed off the high walls.

Cassie's eyes narrowed.

"I want absolute freedom. And I want your protection." Her tone was hard, uncompromising.

Dane placed the coffee cup on the saucer.

He pushed his chair back and stood. He walked slowly around the table until he was standing directly behind her.

He placed both hands on the back of her chair.

Cassie's entire body went rigid. Every muscle in her back locked tight.

Dane leaned down. His chest brushed against the back of the chair. His mouth was right next to her ear.

"Done," he whispered.

Cassie's breath hitched. The immediate, effortless agreement shocked her system. Her fingers gripped her napkin tightly under the table.

"I have only one condition," Dane continued, his voice dropping an octave, turning cold and lethal. "Do not betray me."

Cassie didn't hesitate. She nodded once, sharply.

Dane straightened and walked back to his seat. The crushing pressure in the air dissipated slightly.

Cassie picked up her glass of milk and took a long sip. The cold liquid helped cool the burning anxiety in her chest. She needed to push her luck while he was agreeable.

"I need to go back to the Gilmore house," Cassie said, setting the glass down. "I need to take back my trust fund."

She laid her financial demands bare, expecting him to scoff.

Dane raised a single dark eyebrow.

"Take the Rolls-Royce." He glanced at the bodyguard standing by the door. "Send two of our best men with her. If the Gilmores try anything, report to me immediately. Do not let her out of your sight."

Cassie's heart gave a hard thump. The casual display of wealth and absolute backing sent a chill down her spine. He was giving her too much power, too easily.

Dane stood, buttoned his suit jacket, and walked out of the dining room toward his study.

The moment his broad back disappeared around the corner, Cassie let out a long, shaky exhale. Her lungs burned.

Thirty minutes later, Cassie walked out of the manor's front doors.

A sleek black Rolls-Royce idled on the circular driveway. A driver in a sharp uniform opened the rear door.

Cassie slid into the luxurious backseat. The buttery soft leather yielded under her weight.

She stared out the tinted window. Her eyes were cold, calculating.

The heavy door slammed shut. The engine purred to life.

Cassie leaned her head back against the headrest. The faces of her adoptive family flashed behind her eyelids. Her pulse began to thrum with a dark, heavy rhythm.

The car glided out of the Manhattan streets. Glass skyscrapers faded into the distance.

Cassie's jaw clenched tight. Her eyes grew colder with every mile.

The car merged onto the highway, heading straight for Long Island.

Familiar, tree-lined streets began to pass by the window. The sight triggered a sharp ache in her chest.

Cassie's hands curled into fists in her lap. Her fingernails dug half-moons into her palms.

Up ahead, the massive wrought-iron gates of the Gilmore estate came into view. The pretentious family crest mounted on the stone pillar made her stomach roll.

A harsh, bitter laugh escaped her lips.

The Rolls-Royce pulled smoothly up to the front steps. The tires crunched against the gravel and stopped.

Cassie took a deep breath, filling her lungs, forcing her heart rate to steady.

The driver opened her door. The crisp morning wind hit her face, rustling the fabric of her expensive dress.

Cassie stepped out. Her high heels clicked sharply against the pavement. She adjusted her posture, pulling her shoulders back.

She looked up at the massive wooden front doors. The fear that used to choke her on these steps was completely gone. Now, there was only a burning, violent need for destruction.

Cassie stepped onto the stone stairs. Her heels struck the granite with a sharp, heavy rhythm.

She reached the top and pressed her finger hard against the brass doorbell.

The melodic chime echoed through the thick wooden door. A few seconds later, it swung open.

A young maid stood in the doorway. Her eyes landed on Cassie's scarred face. The girl gasped loudly, stumbling backward, hands flying up to cover her mouth.

Cassie didn't blink. She walked straight past the terrified girl into the grand foyer.

Her heels sank into the expensive Persian rug, muting her footsteps. She turned her head, locking onto the center of the living room.

Kathleen Gilmore sat on the plush sofa, elegantly sipping from a porcelain teacup. A thin woman with severe cheekbones and carefully styled blonde hair, she looked every inch the wealthy matriarch.

Kathleen lowered the cup and looked up. When she saw Cassie standing there in a custom designer dress, looking entirely unbroken, her eyes widened. The teacup slammed down onto the saucer with a loud clatter.

Kailee, Cassie's adoptive sister, came running down the curved staircase. Dark-haired, sharp-featured, and wearing a silk robe that probably cost more than most people's monthly rent. She stopped dead. Her eyes darted over Cassie's expensive clothes. Her face twisted into pure jealousy.

Kathleen quickly recovered, forcing a sickeningly sweet smile onto her face. She stood.

"Cassie, darling!" Kathleen cooed, walking forward with arms outstretched.

Cassie shifted her weight and turned her shoulder, smoothly dodging the touch.

Kathleen's hands grasped empty air. Her smile faltered. She masked her annoyance with fake concern.

"Did Mr. Frederick hurt you?" Kathleen asked, her voice dripping with venomous hope. "We heard he has... violent tendencies."

Cassie let out a short, cold laugh. "Disappointed I'm not dead?"

She walked past Kathleen and sat down in the single leather armchair. She crossed her legs, posture relaxed but dominant. She had completely taken control of the room.

Kathleen's fake smile vanished. Her face hardened.

"I want my trust fund," Cassie stated. Flat, hard, no room for negotiation.

The silence stretched thick and suffocating.

Kailee shrieked. She stomped across the room, stopping right in front of Cassie, pointing a manicured finger at her face.

"You ugly freak! You don't get a dime!" Kailee screamed, her face turning red.

Cassie looked up at Kailee's trembling finger. Her eyes were dead and cold.

"Screaming won't change the law, Kailee. It just makes you look desperate," Cassie said softly.

Kailee's entire body shook with rage.

Kathleen stepped forward, pressing a hand to her chest, eyes filling with fake tears. "Cassie, how can you do this? After everything we've done for you? We raised you!"

Cassie's stomach churned. She unclasped her designer handbag.

She pulled out a thick stack of documents and tossed them onto the glass coffee table. The heavy paper slapped against the glass.

"Evidence of the Gilmore family embezzling from my biological parents' estate," Cassie said.

Kathleen looked down at the papers. The blood drained from her face, leaving her skin a sickly pale gray.

Kailee lunged forward. She grabbed the stack and ripped it apart. She tore the papers again and again, throwing the shredded pieces into the air. White confetti rained down over the coffee table.

Cassie sat perfectly still, watching like she was observing a pathetic circus animal.

"The digital backups are already with my lawyers," Cassie said, her voice cutting through the sound of tearing paper.

Kathleen's knees buckled. She collapsed heavily onto the sofa, breathing shallow.

The heavy oak doors of the study burst open. Josephus Gilmore marched out. A thick-set man with a flushed face and thinning gray hair, he radiated the arrogance of someone who'd never been challenged in his own house.

He took one look at the shredded paper and Kathleen's pale face, and his chest puffed out with fury.

He stomped toward Cassie, heavy footsteps shaking the floorboards.

"Get out of my house and go back to the asylum!" Josephus roared. Spittle flew from his lips.

Cassie gripped the armrests and pushed herself up to stand.

She stared directly into her adoptive father's eyes. The raw, unfiltered hatred in her gaze was so intense that Josephus actually stopped walking.

Kailee saw her father hesitate and immediately stepped to his side.

"Dad, she's trying to steal our money! She threatened Mom!" Kailee whined.

The hesitation in Josephus's eyes vanished, replaced by blinding rage.

He pointed a thick finger at Cassie's scarred cheek. "You are a disgrace to this family! A deformed, ungrateful parasite!"

The vicious words hit Cassie's ears, but her heart stayed numb. She'd heard worse.

"Transfer the funds by noon, or I will see you in federal court," Cassie said, icy and resolute.

Josephus's face turned a dangerous shade of purple. Veins bulged on his neck.

Kathleen sat on the sofa, dabbing her dry eyes with a tissue, watching the chaos unfold. Cassie caught the calculated gleam in her stepmother's eyes and felt fresh disgust.

"You think Frederick cares about you?" Kailee sneered, stepping closer. "He'll throw you out the second he gets bored of your ugly face! You have no one!"

Cassie didn't waste another word. She reached into her bag, pulled out her phone, and tapped 911.

Kailee saw the numbers on the screen. Her eyes widened in panic. Her last shred of sanity snapped.

Kailee lunged forward.

Cassie's muscles instantly coiled. She dropped her center of gravity.

Kailee raised her right hand high. The massive diamond engagement ring on her finger caught the light. She swung her hand down, aiming directly for Cassie's scarred cheek.

Cassie's left hand shot up.

Her fingers clamped hard around Kailee's wrist, stopping the slap dead in mid-air. Kailee's shoulder jerked forward. She struggled, but Cassie's grip held like a steel vice.

Cassie pulled her right arm back.

She swung forward with brutal force. Her palm connected with Kailee's cheek.

The sharp, explosive crack of the slap echoed off the high ceiling.

The blow spun Kailee around. Her high heels twisted under her weight. She crashed hard onto the hardwood floor.

Kailee clutched her rapidly swelling red cheek. A high-pitched, agonizing scream ripped from her throat.

Kailee lay on the floor, her shrill screams piercing the air. Cassie stood over her, chest rising and falling evenly. She flexed her right hand, shaking off the stinging numbness in her palm.

Kathleen saw her daughter hit the ground. A horrific shriek tore from her mouth. She threw herself off the sofa and dropped to her knees beside Kailee.

Kathleen's head snapped up. Her eyes were wide with pure, venomous hatred.

"You bitch!" Kathleen screamed. She lunged upward, hands curled into claws, aiming her sharp nails straight for the fake scars on Cassie's face.

Cassie shifted her weight to her back foot and leaned her torso backward. Kathleen's fingernails swiped through empty air, missing by an inch.

Cassie looked down at the two women groveling on the floor.

"Look at yourselves," Cassie said, her voice dripping with cold disdain. "Pathetic."

Kathleen's face contorted. She gasped for air like she might choke on her own rage.

Josephus watched his wife and daughter humiliated. His fragile pride shattered. A low, guttural roar erupted from his chest.

He charged at Cassie.

He pulled his thick right arm back, curling his hand into a massive fist, aiming a devastating punch at her head. The force of his movement pushed a gust of air against her face.

Cassie planted her feet firmly on the rug, her core tightening as she calculated his trajectory.

The moment his fist flew forward, Cassie ducked and twisted her torso to the right.

Josephus's heavy fist sailed past her ear. The momentum of his missed punch pulled his body forward. He stumbled, losing his balance.

Cassie pivoted on her heel. She drove the toe of her designer heel hard into the back of Josephus's knee.

The precision strike hit the nerve. Josephus cried out in pain. His leg buckled, and he crashed down onto one knee.

The commotion sent the remaining maids fleeing toward the kitchen, screaming. A tall porcelain vase was knocked over in the panic, shattering into hundreds of pieces across the floor. Absolute chaos.

From the corner of her eye, Cassie saw movement.

Kailee had scrambled to her feet. She grabbed a heavy ceramic teapot full of scalding hot tea from the coffee table. With a scream of fury, Kailee hurled the teapot directly at Cassie's head.

Cassie's heart skipped.

She grabbed the heavy velvet throw pillow from the armchair and threw it up like a shield.

The teapot smashed into the pillow. Boiling hot tea splashed across the velvet, sending up a cloud of steam. A few drops hit Cassie's forearm, burning her skin, but she'd avoided a catastrophic hit to her face.

Cassie tossed the soaked, steaming pillow aside. Her patience was gone.

She closed the distance between her and Kailee in two quick strides. She grabbed a thick handful of Kailee's hair.

Cassie yanked backward, forcing Kailee's head to snap back, exposing her throat.

She raised her hand and delivered two brutal, back-to-back slaps across Kailee's face. The impacts sounded like gunshots.

Blood immediately welled up in the corner of Kailee's mouth. Her eyes rolled back slightly, the fight completely beaten out of her.

Cassie shoved Kailee backward. Kailee collapsed onto the sofa like a broken doll, letting out weak, pathetic sobs.

Behind her, Josephus was struggling to stand. His eyes were bloodshot, entirely devoid of reason. He limped to the corner of the room and grabbed a heavy metal golf club from a display bag.

He gripped the club with both hands and swung wildly toward Cassie's head. The metal shaft sliced through the air with a terrifying swoosh.

Cassie threw her body backward, rolling over the arm of the sofa to dodge.

The heavy club smashed into the glass coffee table. The thick glass exploded. Shards flew in every direction, slicing through the fabric of Cassie's dress and scratching her calves.

Cassie scrambled to her feet, ignoring the stinging cuts on her legs. She grabbed a heavy brass table lamp, ripping the cord from the wall. She held it up like a club, her eyes locked onto Josephus with cold intensity.

Josephus raised the golf club again. He let out a feral scream as he stepped over the broken glass, closing in.

Cassie tightened her grip on the brass lamp, muscles burning with adrenaline, ready to strike.

"Kill her! Beat her to death!" Kathleen shrieked from the corner.

Cassie's jaw locked.

Just as Josephus began his downward swing, a deafening crash echoed from the front of the house.

Everyone froze. Josephus's golf club stopped in mid-air.

The massive oak front doors were kicked open with a force that splintered the heavy brass lock and sent the doors crashing violently against the interior walls.

Bright morning sunlight flooded the dark foyer.

A tall, broad figure stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the light. Pure, suffocating violence rolled off him in waves.

Dane Frederick stepped into the house. His face was a mask of absolute, terrifying rage.

Cassie's breath caught in her throat. Her grip on the brass lamp loosened.

Adrian, Dane's assistant, marched in right behind him, followed by a dozen men in black tactical suits. The bodyguards flooded the living room, instantly taking control of the space.

Dane's dark, furious eyes swept the room and locked onto Cassie, backed into the corner, surrounded by broken glass.

The muscles in his jaw feathered. He strode across the room, ignoring the glass crunching under his expensive leather shoes.

He reached her in seconds. He grabbed her arm and pulled her hard against his solid chest. His large arm wrapped tightly around her waist, locking her against him.

Cassie's face pressed into his suit jacket. The sharp, clean scent of cedar and cold air filled her lungs, immediately calming her racing heart.

Josephus stood frozen, the golf club still raised slightly. He stared at the billionaire in his living room. His hands began to shake violently. Cold sweat drenched his collar.

Dane slowly turned his head to look at Josephus. His eyes were completely dead.

"Drop it," Dane ordered. His voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of a death sentence.