### Chapter 1

The day my mother found out she was pregnant with her second child, my father's mistress ran her down with a car.

Blood spread out from under her, and the baby was thrown clear of her body. My billionaire father didn't punish the mistress. She was so frightened she burst into tears, so he pulled every last doctor off my mother and sent them to treat the woman's hemophobia instead.

On a bitter night with snow pouring down, I lost my mother forever.

At seven, I was dumped in an orphanage, where I was bullied and tormented for years.

Then, at sixteen, John Farley, the young heir of the Farley family, took me out of that place and swore he would protect me for the rest of my life.

With John's help and my own relentless grind, day and night, fifteen years later I became the head of the multi-billion-dollar Young empire.

In the second year of our secret marriage, I overheard him talking to my assistant.

"Working at Young Group is Serena's dream. It wouldn't look right coming from me, so recommend her to Jennifer Young for me."

"Jennifer hates betrayal more than anything. Whatever you do, don't let her find out Serena is my lover."

I stood in the corridor outside the study, one hand resting on my five-month belly, my heart wrung tight by the shadows deep in the hall, going cold inch by inch.

The next day, my assistant set a resume on my desk and pushed hard for her.

"Ms. Young, this girl is a Harvard graduate. During her internship she was outstanding, and she takes initiative like no one else. This is exactly the kind of talent we're short on."

I opened the resume in silence. The girl in the photo was young and pretty, smiling with total confidence.

When my eyes reached the line for her parents' names, my breath caught.

Those two names stabbed into my heart like blades, and that bloody, freezing night from more than twenty years ago swallowed me all over again.

I closed my eyes for a moment, then had my assistant bring Serena Barrett in.

Serena stopped in front of my desk, chin lifted, her eyes full of certainty that this was already hers.

I raised my head, studied her for several seconds, then said coldly,

"Serena Barrett. You're not qualified to work at Young Group."

...

The moment the words left my mouth, the air went dead still.

My assistant, standing to the side, froze. He wiped the sweat from his forehead in a panic and lowered his voice.

"Ms. Young, every department manager pushed hard for her. Every project she's touched has come back with zero complaints from clients. She placed first in her group in both evaluations."

I ignored him and kept my eyes on Serena.

The smile at the corner of her mouth stiffened slightly, but she recovered fast.

"Ms. Young, you can verify every one of my results."

She pushed the file she'd brought across the desk toward me, tapping the cover with one fingertip.

"If there's a problem with my ability, then don't take me. But rejecting months of my hard work with no basis at all, that's a decision I can't accept."

Her back was ramrod straight, her eyes full of defiance.

How much she looked like her mother. The same fine features, the same dazzling confidence.

Maybe because she'd been raised in the palm of someone's hand, never once wronged, so the moment she was turned down she put on that "surely there's been a mistake" face.

The John Farley who swore over and over he'd be faithful to me, was this what he'd fallen for? This beauty and confidence she'd been born with? Just like my father, when he betrayed my mother?

I pressed down the sting deep in my chest and answered evenly.

"There's nothing wrong with your ability."

Confusion rose in her eyes. "Then why?"

I lifted my coffee cup, took a slow sip, and only then said it.

"Because I don't want to use you."

Serena went blank. It was several seconds before she found her voice. "This doesn't follow proper hiring procedure! If I report this to senior management, or file a complaint with the industry regulators—"

"Complain all you like."

I cut her off, set down the coffee, and leaned back in my chair.

"This is my company. Who I hire and who I don't is nobody's business but mine."

Serena's face finally changed.

She bit down hard on her lower lip, and the composure and arrogance in her eyes gave way, little by little, to fury.

She'd probably never been treated this way in her life.

For as long as she could remember, she was the one who stood out in any crowd, the one everyone fought to have.

"You're targeting me."

There was a tremble in her voice, but not from fear. From anger.

I looked her in the eye and neither denied it nor admitted it.

"You think you're good enough that everyone should want you?" I smiled and lifted my gaze. "You think that because you placed first, because you got straight top marks, the whole world should step aside for you?"

"What?"

"You're wrong." I stared into her wide eyes. "The world has never owed you a thing. All those things you take for granted are just a road someone else paved for you."

Her eyes reddened all at once.

"You know me?" She stared at me, her voice shaking a little. "Who exactly are you?"

### Chapter 2

My assistant leaned close to my ear, his voice tight with urgency. "Ms. Young, you really should hire her. Her family, after all—"

I cut him a cold look.

He fell silent at once and shrank back half a step.

"I know. You're the Barrett heiress."

The corners of Serena's mouth curled up instantly, and she arched a brow in triumph.

"That's right. Since you already know who I am, Ms. Young, then you should understand—if you hire me, all it takes is a word or two to my father down the line, and the Youngs stand to gain plenty."

She paused, hands behind her back, chest lifted like a proud swan.

"Not to mention, my boyfriend happens to be—"

Beside me, the assistant let out a sharp cough, chopping off the name before it left her mouth.

He worked up his nerve and leaned in again, dropping his voice. "Ms. Young, the Barretts may not carry the weight they used to, but they still have pull in Chicago. Frank Barrett dotes on his daughter like his own life. If he finds out you turned her away, he could make things very difficult for the Youngs."

"Shut up. I'll deal with you later."

The assistant froze, confusion and fear flickering in his eyes, and obediently closed his mouth.

I looked back at Serena. "Do you think I care?"

The smile on her face went stiff.

"Whatever the Barretts have to offer, I don't want it." I tossed her portfolio back in front of her. "I'm busy. Miss Barrett may leave now."

The triumph on her face finally crumbled to nothing.

She clenched her teeth, fury burning in those pretty eyes. A girl adored and fawned over her whole life—when had she ever been rejected and humiliated like this?

She swept the papers to the floor with one swipe of her hand.

"Jennifer Young, don't you regret what you said today!"

Serena slammed the door and stormed out, still blazing. The assistant was frantic as an ant on a hot pan, opening his mouth, not daring to say a single word.

I slammed my palm down on the desk.

"Assistant Salazar, you'd better get one thing straight. Whose money are you taking, and whose interests are you supposed to serve?"

The assistant went blank.

I fixed my eyes on him, spacing out each word.

"I want every piece of evidence that John Farley is cheating with Serena Barrett."

Cold sweat visibly beaded on his forehead. His eyes went wide, filled with shock. "You—you already know?!"

"If you want to keep living in Chicago, you know what to do."

The assistant gave a start and rushed to swear it to me. "Ms. Young, don't worry! Give me two days and I'll get it done!"

"Get out."

The door eased shut, and the office sank back into silence.

I stood at the window, the highest view in the city spread out beneath my feet.

This tower—John Farley had a hand in designing it himself back then. He'd held me close and told me he'd give me the whole world.

Now the one who'd destroyed half my world was him too.

I laid my hand over my stomach, my palm pressed to the thin fabric, and held it there a long while. In the end I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again my gaze was cold.

I dialed my best friend, the doctor, and said quietly, "Yuki, I need you to book me an abortion."

"What? Are you out of your mind?" On the other end, she was aghast. "That baby was so hard for you and John Farley to get. What on earth happened?"

John had a low sperm count. The doctors had once said our odds of having a child were slim.

But he wanted a whole family, and his parents were deeply traditional, prizing the family bloodline and its name above everything. They insisted there be a child before they'd hold a wedding for us.

So through more than a year of a secret marriage, he'd swallowed countless bitter medicines, gritting his teeth through round after round of grueling tests, and at last we'd gotten this baby.

Since John didn't treasure it, I'd give him what he wanted.

"Are you free tonight? Let's grab dinner. I'll tell you in person."

"Sure. It happens to be my day off today."

That night, in a private room at the restaurant, I gave my friend the short version of it.

Her fists had only just clenched when, from outside, came the sound of high heels drawing closer.

"Ma'am, there are guests inside, you can't go in!"

Over the waiter's frantic protests, the next second the door was shoved open roughly from the outside.

A woman with the look of a wealthy society wife stood in the doorway, her sharp gaze sweeping over me and my friend.

"Which one of you is Jennifer Young?!"

### Chapter 3

A face I would know even if it were burned to ash.

My father's mistress. Vera Baxter.

She was dressed in custom Louis Vuitton, the bracelet on her wrist and the necklace at her throat all limited-edition pieces. Her well-kept face was as polished as ever, barely changed in over twenty years.

Her gaze finally settled on my stomach. Her mouth curled, and she smiled with cheap contempt.

"So you're the boss of the Youngs? The woman who got herself knocked up before marriage. No shame at all."

Yuki shot up out of her chair, ready to tear into her. I pressed her back down.

Vera dragged over the chair beside me, crossed her legs, and sat like she was here to inspect her own territory.

"I'd like to see just how much nerve you've got, turning down my daughter."

I smiled and took my time before I lifted my eyes.

"Mrs. Baxter, I never expected to hear the word 'shame' come out of your mouth. I can tell you've had a very comfortable life all these years."

Her expression shifted.

"What did you say?"

She sat there with a sour face, sizing me up for a long moment.

Clearly, she didn't recognize me.

The year I turned seven, she was the one who talked Frank Barrett into throwing me into the orphanage.

That winter was bitterly cold. The bed was broken, the blanket thin as paper, and I often lay awake shivering. The staff gave us one meal a day, cold and half-spoiled. The other children ganged up on me, pulled my hair, pinched my arms, locked me in the bathroom the whole night through.

I curled up in a corner and burned with fever, crying out for my father until I passed out. No one ever came.

A few days later, Vera turned up in the director's office. I pressed myself against the windowsill and watched her push a thick envelope across the desk.

"Make sure that little brat suffers as much as possible. Do as I say, and you'll get ten thousand a month, every month. Not a cent short."

After that, my meals got smaller and the beatings got worse. And I never called out for my father again.

Now I was the chairwoman of a multi-billion-dollar empire. How could she ever connect this young, beautiful woman in front of her to that scrawny, pitiful girl?

I leaned back in my chair and slowly curved my lips.

"So what does Mrs. Baxter want with me?"

"Since you're calling me Mrs. Baxter, then you know exactly where I stand."

She arrogantly picked up the red wine on the table, not bothering to ask whose it was, and swirled it as if it were hers.

"My Serena is a Barrett heiress. Her even looking twice at your little company is doing you a favor."

"She's got real talent, of course, but she's still new. Give her a supervisor's position for now, and in a few months bumping her up to manager should be about right."

She said it as though it were the most natural thing in the world, like telling her housekeeper what to buy at the market tomorrow.

It made me laugh.

"And what exactly is she worth?"

The elegance cracked off her face in an instant. "What did you say?!"

I folded my arms, every word clear.

"I said Serena Barrett isn't even fit to fetch my shoes."

Crack.

The glass in Vera's hand hit the floor, red wine splashing everywhere.

She stood up, her sharp nails almost jabbing into my face.

"You ungrateful little thing! You think my husband couldn't crush you with one hand?"

"If he finds out you insulted his daughter, he'll make you pay for it, and then some!"

I looked at her furious, ugly face and suddenly wondered whether she'd worn this same vicious, hideous expression the day she ran my mother down, over twenty years ago.

"Go ahead and try."

My nails dug into my palm. I tipped my chin toward the two waiters at the door. "Throw her out."

They moved in at once, taking her by both arms and hauling her toward the exit. "Please forgive us. Ms. Young is our SVIP guest. No one can afford to offend her."

"How dare you! Do you know who I am!"

Vera was beside herself. Everywhere she'd ever gone in her life, she'd been fawned over and catered to. When had anyone ever thrown her out?