The Harding servants and bodyguards scattered like rats, arms over their heads.

I followed the pull of my divine soul and strode toward the basement level of the Harding estate.

The iron door to the underground was sealed with a coded lock.

I stepped back.

Brick pulled out the hydraulic cutter he always carried. One clean snap, and the lock sheared apart.

I kicked the door open.

The smell hit me first. Blood, thick and metallic, layered over the sharp sting of disinfectant.

The moment I saw what was inside, my vision went red.

This wasn't a storage room. It was a fully equipped sterile operating theater.

Amy Harding. My best friend. The goddess who had once stood serene and untouchable in the Moonlit Palace.

She was strapped to a freezing surgical table.

Her face was the color of ash. Her eyes were shut, and her breathing was so faint it barely registered.

Her back had been cut open. A tube as thick as a grown man's forearm was jammed into her spine.

Dark red bone marrow was being siphoned out of her body, inch by inch, through that tube.

On a second bed beside her, plush and pristine like something out of a luxury recovery suite, lay the Harding family's fake heiress.

Lena Harding.

Lena's cheeks were rosy. She was propped against her pillows, watching a variety show on a tablet, giggling every few seconds.

Georgia Harding sat at the edge of Lena's bed, spooning bird's nest soup into her mouth one careful bite at a time.

"There's a good girl, eat up. Once they finish extracting your sister's marrow, you'll be completely cured."

The private doctor in a white coat frowned and spoke up. "Mrs. Harding, Miss Amy's vitals are dropping. The volume of marrow extracted has already far exceeded the safe limit. If you continue, she will die."

Georgia didn't even look up. Her voice dripped with impatience.

"Her worthless life, traded for my Lena's health? She should count herself lucky."

"Increase the dosage. As long as it cures Lena, even if she dies on that table, consider it her filial duty to the Harding family."

Filial duty?!

Something inside my skull snapped clean in two.

"Filial duty my ass!"

CRACK.

I brought the rod down on the extraction machine with everything I had.

Sparks exploded outward. The machine shrieked, shorted, and went dead.

The crash sent the bowl of soup flying from Georgia's hands. It shattered on the floor.

"Who are you?!" Georgia shrieked, scrambling to her feet, staring at me in terror.

Lena burrowed under her blankets like a frightened animal.

I didn't spare either of them a glance. I grabbed the doctor by the collar with one hand, lifted him clean off his feet, and slammed him into the wall.

"Who gave you the guts to extract her marrow?!"

He was shaking so hard his teeth chattered. He pointed a trembling finger at Georgia. "It was... it was Mrs. Harding's orders! I was just doing what I was paid to do!"

I drove my knee into his stomach.

He screamed, crumpled to the floor clutching his gut, and retched up bile.

Brick and Nat stormed in with the rest of the crew and locked down the operating room in seconds.

I rushed to the surgical table and fumbled with the restraints buckled around Amy's wrists.

Deep purple welts had been gouged into her skin where the straps had bitten in.

When my fingers touched her, she was cold. Not cool. Cold. The kind of cold that doesn't belong to the living.

"Amy! Amy, wake up!" I patted her cheek. My voice was shaking and I couldn't stop it.

Her eyelids fluttered open, barely. Her pupils were unfocused, drifting.

When she recognized me, her cracked lips pulled into the ghost of a bitter smile.

"Pansy... you came..."

"Mortals... are truly terrifying..."

My tears fell before I could hold them back.

I was the Storm Goddess. A deity with rank and reputation in the Ninth Heaven. And I'd let my best friend suffer like this in the mortal world.

"Don't be scared. I'm taking you home."

I eased the tubes from her back as carefully as I could, then pressed sterile gauze hard against the wound.

I'd barely gathered her into my arms when a stampede of footsteps erupted outside the door.

"Nobody move!"

Harold Harding, the eldest son of the Harding family, stood in the doorway flanked by a small army of bodyguards in full tactical gear.

He wore a tailored suit and gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes cold and imperious behind the lenses.

The moment he saw me holding Amy, his brows knotted into a vicious scowl.

"Pansy Dunn? A thug from the underworld, and you have the nerve to break into my family's home?"

"Do you have any idea what you've done? One phone call. That's all it takes to wipe every last one of your father's operations off the map."

I let out a cold laugh and passed Amy to Brick, who stood right behind me.

"Brick, get Amy to the car. There's a first-aid kit inside."

Brick took two steps toward the exit, Amy cradled against his chest, but Harold's bodyguards closed ranks and blocked him.

Harold slid his hands into his pockets, voice dripping with arrogance. "Put her down. She belongs to the Harding family. If she dies, she dies here."

"Pansy, I don't care what kind of stunt you think you're pulling. Take your little gang of lowlifes and get the hell out."

Before I could respond, Lena, lying on the hospital bed, suddenly burst into pitiful sobs.

She threw off the covers, didn't even bother with shoes, and ran barefoot to Harold's side, clutching his arm.

"Harold, please don't blame Pansy. This is all my fault!"

"I shouldn't have gotten sick. I shouldn't have needed Amy's bone marrow. If Pansy insists on taking her, then just let me die!"

Tears streamed down her face like rain on pear blossoms, her body swaying as if she might collapse at any second.

Harold immediately wrapped a protective arm around her, his glare sharpening to a razor's edge as it swung back to me.

"You hear that, Pansy? Lena is this kind and selfless, and your precious best friend is that selfish! It's just a little bone marrow, and she goes running to the mob to cause a scene!"

Georgia found her voice too, jabbing a finger at my face and shrieking.

"Where is that ungrateful little wretch? We searched for her for twenty years! Fed her, clothed her! All we're asking is that she repay us for raising her, and she plays dead!"

"Nobody takes her out of here until we've gotten every last drop of marrow we need!"

I looked at this shameless family and laughed. The kind of laugh that comes when rage circles all the way back around.

"Repay you for raising her?"

I stepped forward and raised my hand.

Crack!

One sharp, ringing slap landed square on Lena's sanctimonious face.

I put everything I had into it.

Lena flew back a full six feet, slammed into the hospital bed, and crumpled. Her lip split on impact, blood pouring down her chin.

"Ahhh! My face!" She clutched her cheek and screamed.

Dead silence.

Harold's eyes went wide, as if he couldn't process that someone had just struck a blow on his turf.

"Pansy! You're dead!" He lunged at me with a roar.

I drove my foot straight into his kneecap.

A clean, wet snap of bone, and the mighty Harding heir dropped to his knees in front of me.

"You want to talk rules with me?" I grabbed a fistful of his hair and wrenched his head back, forcing him to look up at my face.

"Let me teach you how we do things in the underworld."

I backhanded him across the mouth. Half a tooth skittered across the floor.

"Nat! Anyone gets in the way, break their legs!"

"Yes, Boss!"

The Dunn crew drew their weapons in unison, eyes sharp and merciless.

The Harding bodyguards were well-trained, but standing across from a pack of men who'd built their lives on the edge of a blade, their confidence crumbled in an instant.

I stepped over Harold's body, shielding Brick and Amy as we pushed toward the exit.

Georgia screamed behind us, hysterical: "Call the police! Call the police right now! Have these thugs arrested!"

I didn't even turn around.

The moment we cleared the Harding Estate, the SUV roared to life and tore out of there.

"Our private hospital! Now!" I shouted from the back seat.

Amy lay across my lap, her face white as paper, her breathing so faint I could barely feel it.

I'd already cast a Divine Sigil in secret, channeling a thin thread of divine energy into her body to protect her heart meridian.

But in the mortal world, a celestial's power was severely constrained.

If I overused my abilities, it wouldn't just invite heavenly punishment. It would accelerate the collapse of her mortal body.

By the time we reached the Dunn Group's private hospital, the top medical team was already waiting at the entrance.

Amy was rushed straight into the ICU.

I sat on the row of chairs in the corridor, both hands still covered in her blood.

A rapid set of footsteps echoed from the far end of the hallway.

My father, Nelson Dunn, strode toward me in a loose traditional jacket, flanked by several of his lieutenants.

The man who commanded fear across every corner of the city looked nothing but frantic.

"Pansy! Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

He grabbed my arms and looked me over head to toe.

I shook my head and pointed at the sealed ICU doors. "I'm fine. But Amy's barely hanging on."

Nelson's expression darkened.

"Those animals. Their own flesh and blood, and they'd go that far."

He squeezed my shoulder. "Relax. This hospital is ours. The doctors are the best money can buy. They'll bring her back."

But things were far worse than I'd imagined.

Two hours later, the attending physician emerged drenched in sweat, his face grim.

"Mr. Dunn, Miss Dunn... Miss Harding's condition is extremely critical."

"She's had an excessive amount of bone marrow forcibly extracted. Her hematopoietic stem cells have sustained catastrophic damage. She needs an immediate blood transfusion and emergency medication."

"However..." The doctor swallowed hard.

"However what? Spit it out!" I snapped.

The doctor's voice shook. "Ten minutes ago, every unit of compatible blood in our hospital's bank was requisitioned by the Health Department. And the supplier for the medication we need just called to unilaterally terminate our contract. They're refusing to deliver."

My head went blank, like a bomb had gone off inside my skull.

"Who did this?"

Nelson's phone rang.

He answered, listened for two seconds, and his face turned to iron.

He hurled the phone into the floor. It shattered into pieces.

"The Hardings."

Nelson's jaw clenched so tight the muscles in his neck stood out. "That old bastard Myron Harding gave the order. They've pulled every political and business string they have. They didn't just cut off our medical supplies. They've rallied several of the major families to launch a full-scale assault on every legitimate business we've been building."

The Hardings moved fast.

Less than half a day.

The internet was already on fire.

#CriminalGangInvadesPrivateHome#

#HeiressAndMobPrincessBeatTheirOwnParents#

#BoycottDunnGroup #ShutDownOrganizedCrime#

The posts were plastered with security camera stills of me and my crew smashing through the Harding Estate gates, alongside interview footage of Georgia and Lena sobbing in a hospital, faces wrapped in bandages.

In the video, Georgia wailed like her heart was being ripped from her chest: "We just wanted Amy to come home! But she blamed us for favoring Lena, and she brought gangsters to destroy our house! She tried to kill her own brother! Where is the justice?!"