Chapter 5

The day her father was imprisoned, her mother packed her bags and left in the middle of the night. Not even a note remained.

Her younger sister was hit by a car on her way home from school. She still lay in the ICU, fighting for her life.

Their grandmother couldn’t bear the shock. A sudden heart attack took her.

Emily Smith stood in the hospital corridor, staring at her sister’s frail body tangled in tubes. The doctor said she could stop breathing at any moment.

William Johnson’s investigation files chilled her to the bone. But did he know the real reason her father was behind bars?

"Secretary or Business Department?" William’s voice cut through her thoughts.

Emily clenched her fists. She chose the Business Department.

She was afraid. Afraid that seeing him every day would make him tire of her quickly. Afraid that in the end, she’d gain nothing.

Business Assistant in the Overseas Division—her new title.

The manager, Michael Thompson, was in his early thirties. When William’s secretary personally escorted her in, his enthusiasm was excessive.

Emily knew where that warmth came from. She had to tread carefully, leaving no room for gossip.

By the time her onboarding was complete, the setting sun cast long shadows through BestTech Group’s glass skyscraper.

The sixty-eight-story tower glittered in the twilight. Emily tilted her head back, her chest tightening.

This was a place many dreamed of entering. And the only reason she stood here was William Johnson.

The subway roared into the station. The final stop: The Royal Club.

Emily leaned into the corner, closing her eyes. She needed this brief respite.

Dinner hour at The Royal Club. Susan Miller pulled her into the staff meal. The hot food eased some of the exhaustion.

At exactly ten, her phone buzzed violently in her locker.

But Emily was already balancing a tray, weaving through the dimly lit private rooms.

"Room 3808 ordered two bottles of Louis XIII," Susan’s voice crackled over the walkie-talkie.

Emily lowered her head as she entered the room. Raucous laughter from men and women pierced the hazy air.

"Enjoy," she murmured, kneeling to place the bottles on the table.

As she rose, a furious shout exploded beside her.

"Emily Smith!"

Her blood turned to ice. David Brown.

Running was impossible. A searing pain tore through her scalp as he slammed her against the wall.

"Who do you think you are?" David’s face twisted with drunken rage. "How many men have had you already?"

Emily clawed at his grip on her hair. Breathing became a struggle.

"We broke up!" she choked out.

"Broke up?" His hand reared back. "You’re nothing!"

The slap echoed through the room. Emily’s right ear rang, the world spinning.

She remembered the gentle boy who once held an umbrella for her.

Who was this monster now?

David’s palm lifted again.