Chapter 3
623words
"Please, Lily," he said, eyes pleading. "I don't want to fight you."
"Don't want to?"
"Wasn't this exactly what you chose?"
One minute you're promising to make me your wife, the next you're pressing steel to my temple, demanding your freedom.
You sold me out, handed all my secrets to my worst enemy, and now you have the nerve to say you don't want to be enemies?
I don't know who the hell you are anymore, Alex.
"Miranda's got the upper hand now," he said quietly. "You'll get hurt if you don't back down."
Miranda and I had been locked in a stalemate for a decade, neither able to finish the other.
If Alex hadn't stabbed me in the back, I wouldn't be bleeding out now.
He slid a small box across the table, his eyes dark.
"This is what happens to people who cross Miranda now."
Inside were two severed hands, blood still seeping from the stumps.
They belonged to Uncle Lewis—the man who'd raised me since I was a child. The flesh was already turning, blood pooling beneath them.
"You heartless bastard."
My voice was barely a whisper.
Uncle Lewis was the only father I'd known after mine died. My father's dying wish was for Lewis to raise me.
Lewis had raised me from a child, and he'd welcomed Alex with open arms.
When Alex struggled with his training, Lewis would clap him on the shoulder.
"You've got this, son," he'd say. "Uncle Lewis believes in you."
Lewis fulfilled Alex's every childish wish. When Alex mentioned missing home, Lewis built him a sanctuary that matched his dreams.
"You're not human, Alex. You're a monster."
Something flickered in his eyes—guilt, perhaps—but it vanished in an instant.
"Just think about it," he said, backing toward the door. "I really don't want to be your enemy."
He turned and walked away, leaving me alone with the bloody remnants of my mentor.
I stared at the mutilated hands, swallowing the acid rising in my throat.
At least Lewis was still alive. For now.
Everything collapsed at once—missed deliveries, penalty payments, protection money due.
Between the medical bills and operating costs, we were bleeding money we didn't have.
"Boss, no one will float us a loan."
"That's impossible," I snapped. "We'll pay double interest if we have to. What are they afraid of?"
Jack's voice trembled as he delivered the final blow.
"They said you're a sinking ship. They won't throw good money after bad."
"Backing you means crossing Miranda now. No one's willing to take that risk."
"What?"
The realization hit me like a bullet. Miranda alone couldn't turn the entire city against me. She must have rallied all the major players—they were determined to drown the First Dragon of City A.
"Sell everything."
"This too."
I clutched the Jade Buddha pendant—the only thing my father had left me—until my knuckles turned white.
"Are we really this desperate?"
"We've got no choice. The living need to eat."
Jack saw my face and swallowed whatever else he was going to say.
I had no options left. These heirlooms would buy us time, nothing more.
I attended the auction myself, wrapped in disguises, praying no one would recognize me.
My father's Jade Buddha was museum-quality, yet barely anyone raised their paddles.
It sold for a pittance—barely a quarter of its value.
The amount wouldn't even cover a week of medical bills.
I stared at the pathetic sum in my account, a vise tightening around my heart.
I should have kept the Buddha. At least I'd have had something of my father's left.
Miranda appeared before me, Alex trailing behind her like a well-trained dog.
