Chapter 2

"Vanessa caught a cold. She needs this to recover. You have a strong constitution—you'll get through this."

Ethan's voice was colder than the December wind.

That vial of Western medicine I'd desperately acquired through black market connections was now being mixed into a supplement and placed before Vanessa Reed.

Vanessa leaned against Ethan's chest, coughing delicately twice, though triumph flashed in her eyes:

"Ethan, is Emily upset?"

"She wouldn't dare." Ethan's eyes turned ice cold.

"If your father hadn't forced mine into this engagement years ago with that port shipping deal, I would never have gotten involved with you, Emily. Vanessa is using one of your medications, and you dare to sulk?"

I stared at that dessert, a metallic sweetness rising in my throat.

He didn't know that vial was the only medicine that could cure my heart disease. Without it, I wouldn't survive the winter.

"Ethan, that's my life," I said hoarsely.

"Enough." He threw the termination papers in my face. The sharp edge of the paper cut my eye.

"I've had enough of these three years. Now that Vanessa is carrying the North family heir, it's time for you to step aside."

The termination papers fluttered to the ground.

I didn't cry or make a scene. I bent down to pick up that paper and swallowed back the blood that had risen to my throat.

"Fine."

I turned and walked into the snow.

Three years. I'd taken assassination attempts meant for him, helped him quell internal company revolts, and carved a bloody path through the cutthroat family power struggles.

In the end, it couldn't compare to one cough from his first love.

The night was black as ink, the snow sharp as knives.

I didn't return to the Sterling family estate. I drove straight to the most secluded private manor in the North family's holdings.

The true head of the North family—the ruthless Damien North, who'd been recovering there for six months—lived in that place.

I knelt at the manor gates and pulled out the bloodstained seal representing the highest authority in the North family.

"Emily Sterling requests an audience with Mr. North."

The cold wind swallowed my voice. The iron gates remained shut, silent as a tomb.

I don't know how long passed before the heavy gates let out a low groan and slowly opened.

The old butler, Harold, approached with a lantern. When he saw the seal in my palm, his pupils contracted sharply.

"Miss Sterling, the master will see you."

Inside, there was no incense—only the smell of antiseptic and bitter medicine.

From behind dark curtains came a low, hoarse laugh that carried endless authority.

"You've finally come."

I knelt on the ground, holding the termination papers high above my head.

"Emily Sterling has been cast aside by Ethan North. I have nowhere else to turn. Does the promise you made years ago still stand?"

A pale, broad hand suddenly pulled back the curtains.

Damien wore loose dark silk robes, his chest wrapped in bloodstained bandages.

He leaned down, his ice-cold fingers gripping my chin.

"What do you want?"

I looked directly into those terrifying eyes.

"I want the most honored position in the North family. I want those who trampled on me to spend the rest of their lives fit only to kneel at my feet."

Damien stared at me for a long moment, then began to laugh—a low laugh that made his chest shake.

"What an ambitious woman."

He pulled me roughly into his arms. The scent of blood and sandalwood immediately enveloped me.

"As you wish."