On Valentine's Day, my boyfriend invited me onto a cruise ship heading for the open sea.

“Quinn, just endure it. The Godfather loves blonde, blue-eyed beauties like you.

“Once you please him, all my gambling debts will be wiped clean!"

At the auction, I was locked inside a golden cage. The starting bid was $3 million.

Just as despair drove me to bite my tongue, the bulletproof glass of the most mysterious private box on the second floor exploded outward.

The mafia godfather stepped through the shattered glass. Shards crunched beneath his feet, and smoke curled from the muzzle of his gun.

He looked exactly like my ex-boyfriend from five years ago.

Back then, he was a bodyguard I had once slapped in public and kicked to the curb like an abandoned dog.

His eyes were bloodshot as he grabbed my chin, smiling with an icy menace.

"Sophia, you're not getting away this time."

I had a splitting headache.

I struggled to force my heavy eyelids open. My vision was blurred, and the ceiling was spinning slowly above me.

The last clear memory I had was of my boyfriend of three years, Calvin Kennedy, kneeling on one knee in a room carpeted with rose petals. He was holding out a ring.

I had drank the glass of red wine he handed me.

My body soon felt unbearably heavy.

I felt a scorching hand moving over my waist. The way he moved was hurried, harsh, and unrestrained.

"Calvin…"

I called out weakly. My voice was hoarse as though I had swallowed sand.

The man on top of me ignored me completely, burying his face in the hollow of my neck, biting and gnawing wildly. His breath was harsh and frantic.

"Quinn, you're mine…"

I felt uncomfortable.

The Calvin I knew was gentle and refined. Even when we were intimate, he was always restrained and careful with me.

He was never like this.

"Stop… I don't feel well."

I frowned, trying to push at his shoulder.

Calvin seemed not to hear me.

My nightdress was torn apart with a sharp rip.

"Calvin! I told you to stop!"

I used all my strength to shove him away, only to realize in horror that my arms were so weak I could barely lift them.

It was the wine!

Panic swallowed me whole.

"Calvin, what did you give me to drink?"

The man finally lifted his head.

His once gentle, harmless face was now twisted with raw desire.

"Quinn, don't move. You're getting sold anyway, so you might as well let me enjoy you one last time."

Sold?

My mind went blank. I thought I had misheard.

Calvin clamped down on my wrists. His hands were usually only used for typing code, but now, they were roaming all over my body, rough and desperate, trying to force my legs apart.

Humiliation drowned me.

I opened my mouth to bite him, but even my teeth were chattering.

"Go away! Don't touch me!"

I struggled desperately, but under the drug's influence, my resistance was weak and almost inviting.

That only made him more excited.

His eyes were bloodshot, and his movements were savage, like he was venting something long suppressed.

The drugs left me without even the strength to bite my tongue. I could only lie there like a fish on a chopping block, staring in despair as he was about to cross the final line.

He was just about to do it.

His movements came to an abrupt halt at that critical moment.

It was as though he remembered something utterly terrifying. His face went deathly pale, and the desire in his eyes was replaced by sheer fear.

"No…" He panted as he muttered to himself.

"What if they reject her because she's already been touched? I'd be done for."

In the end, greed and the instinct to survive defeated his lust.

"Damn it!"

He cursed under his breath and slapped himself hard across the face. Still unwilling to stop, he gave my body one last vicious squeeze before rolling off me in frustration.

The next second, Calvin suddenly began to sob.

"Quinn, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!"

He cried as he trembled, gently stroking my cheek.

"I really love you. I can't bear to let you go.

"But I have no choice. I really don't."

I forced down the humiliation and rage, keeping my voice as gentle as I could.

"What happened?"

Calvin sniffed. His face was full of sorrow and false devotion.

"Quinn, you're too beautiful. You're perfect.

"Only your beauty, blonde hair, blue eyes, and flawless skin can satisfy Jackson.

"As long as he takes you, all my gambling debts will be wiped clean."

My heart clenched violently.

"Who?"

Fear and reverence filled Calvin's face.

"Jackson Grant.

"He's the new mafia Godfather. He's a legend.

"They say he came from the slums and used to be the old Godfather's daughter's bodyguard. He fought his way up. His means were violently cruel.

"He loves beautiful blonde women. Quinn, you'll save me, won't you?"

A thunderclap exploded in my mind.

The fragile hope I was clinging to crashed and shattered.

Jackson Grant.

It really was him.

The little bodyguard who once ran across half of New York just because I craved a Napoleon pastry.

The ex-boyfriend I slapped in public, humiliated like a dog, and abandoned without mercy.

Now, my current boyfriend was actually going to sell me to this newly risen Godfather who hated me with a passion.

Fate really loved to pick on the ones who had the worst luck.

Memories came flooding back.

Back then, I was not an ordinary white-collar worker named Quinn.

I was Sophia Spencer—the old Godfather's most beloved youngest daughter.

In the lawless district we lived in, human lives were worth less than dirt.

I pulled a boy on the verge of starving to death out of a pile of trash.

He had the eyes of a wolf, yet when he looked at me, he was as obedient as a dog.

I named him Jackson Grant.

He became my most loyal bodyguard. He took bullets for me and drank poisoned wine in my place.

Eventually, we fell in love.

It was an absolute taboo within the family.

Everyone said he was scheming, that he seduced the family's princess only to climb the ranks.

I was the only one who knew that he knelt in the mud searching all night just to recover the necklace I had lost on a stormy night.

He was always trying.

He tried so hard to become someone worthy of me.

Just as my father was beginning to relent, disaster struck our family.

Several rival families who had long coveted our wealth joined forces to wipe us out, and a traitor emerged from within.

I knew the collapse was inevitable.

If Jackson stayed by my side, he would die with me.

I had to make sure he lived.

Therefore, I slapped him hard across the face in front of all our men on that rainy night.

"Jackson, can't you take a good look at yourself?

"I'm bored. Do you get it now?

"It makes me sick to think of someone as low as you even touching me."

With the cruelest words and the most contemptuous gaze I could muster, I tore his heart out of his chest.

I could never forget the look in his eyes when he left.

Disbelief.

Heartbreak.

Finally, an overwhelming hatred.

The day our family was destroyed, my parents were brutally killed. I was captured, but I jumped into the sea and escaped in the chaos.

For five years, I hid my identity and lived as an ordinary office worker. I became Quinn.

When Calvin suggested the cruise trip, I was actually afraid to go.

However, I heard that a newly risen power had recently wiped out our former enemies and these waters had changed hands.

I thought it was safe.

I never imagined the master of that new force would be Jackson.

The pain pulled me out of my thoughts.

Calvin's hands were roaming over me again.

"Quinn, your skin is as smooth as silk.

"Godfather Grant is definitely going to be satisfied.

"But…"

Calvin suddenly paused for a moment. An odd smile crept onto his face.

"Sending you over directly would be such a waste.

"And men like the Godfather don't necessarily cherish what's handed to them.

"You'll be the grand finale of the auction tonight."

Auction?

An icy chill crawled up my spine.

As the former Godfather's daughter, I knew all too well what underground auctions were.

They were hell on earth.

Women there were not treated as human beings. They were flesh sold by the pound, toys for men to vent their darkest desires.

"You're going to auction me?"

My voice trembled as I stared at him in disbelief.

"Didn't you say you were giving me to Jackson? Why auction me off?!"

There was something playful in Calvin's gaze as he lifted my powerless chin.

"Quinn, don't be naive.

"Just handing you over? What if the Godfather doesn't like you and sends you back? Who would I beg to then?

"An auction is different.

"The Godfather will be there tonight.

"If he likes you, he'll bid.

"And if he doesn't…"

Calvin gave me a sinister smile.

"Then some other rich man will.

"As long as I get the money, it doesn't matter who you're sold to.

"You just need to lie still, spread your legs, and do what you're meant to do."

I felt like I had fallen into an icy abyss.

I never imagined that my attempt to live an ordinary life would lead me straight into Satan's hell.

If Jackson recognized me, considering the hatred he bore toward me, would he let me die quickly?

No.

He would buy me.

Then, he would make sure I suffered a fate worse than death.

Just then, someone knocked on the door.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

A flash of panic crossed Calvin's face.

In a flurry, he pulled out a small vial of liquid and forced it into my mouth, making me choke and cough violently.

"What is this…"

My throat burned, and it felt as if my vocal cords had been glued shut. I could not form a complete sound.

"Something to shut you up."

He grabbed a black cloak and draped it over me.

Beneath it, I was completely naked.

Then, he produced a silver half-mask and fitted it over my face, leaving only my lips and chin exposed.

It was only after finishing all this that he straightened his rumpled collar, plastered on a sycophantic smile, and went to open the door.

The door swung open.

Two men in black stepped inside, followed by a man in a gray suit.

He had a buzz cut and a scar splitting his left eyebrow.

It was Harris Cress.

He was Jackson's closest brother-in-arms back then, the other bodyguard who had once been fiercely loyal to me.

He was still alive!

If he could recognize me…

If he could take me away…

Even being dragged before Jackson to die would be better than being sold by this animal, Calvin.

I stared at Harris, using every ounce of strength I had to try to climb off the bed.

"Uhrm… Mmph…"

All that came out of my throat was a muffled, indistinct moan that sounded almost like an invitation.

Damn this drug!

Harris's cold gaze swept over the disheveled bed and finally settled on me. His brow furrowed as disgust filled his eyes.

"This is the 'top-tier' one you mentioned?"

Calvin immediately bent forward, nodding eagerly.

"Yes, yes. Harris, look. She has blonde hair, blue eyes, and skin as white as snow."

He walked over and viciously squeezed my chest through the cloak, making my body shudder.

"And she hasn't been used much. She's clean. She'll definitely satisfy the Godfather."

Harris stepped closer.

My heart pounded wildly as I tried desperately to give him some kind of signal.

I deliberately let my body tilt and collapse toward the edge of the bed. The hem of the oversized black cloak flipped up.

My pale, slender calf was exposed.

Just above my left ankle, a vivid red spider lily tattoo came into view.

Five years ago, Jackson held my foot and etched it there, prick by prick.

He said the spider lily flower bloomed along the road to the underworld and that with this flower, even if I died, he would find me in Hell.

Harris had to recognize it!

Sure enough, his gaze was caught by that flash of red.

He stared at the tattoo, and for the first time, something shifted in his otherwise indifferent eyes.

In that instant, my heart nearly burst from my chest.

'Recognize me. Please, recognize me!'

I lifted my head with all my strength, trying to speak through my eyes. Even behind the mask, I hoped he could see the desperation and pleading in them.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly.

I held my breath, tears pooling in my eyes.

Was I saved?

The next second, Harris let out a short, mocking chuckle.

He turned to Calvin with contempt written all over his face.

"You even bothered with the tiny details.

"Impressive.

"The Godfather does have a particular obsession with this kind of tattoo.

"But I'm not sure whether it'll work or not."

What?

He thought it was fake?

Did he simply not care whether it was real?

I was utterly consumed by despair.

Harris turned away and flicked his hand.

"Take her."

The two bodyguards stepped forward and hauled me up like a dead dog.

Calvin followed behind them. Greed was crawling all over his face.

A handkerchief was pressed tightly over my mouth and nose.

In the final second before my consciousness slipped away, I heard Calvin's nauseating flattery.

"Harris, she's just a nobody. She's got no power, no backing. She's perfect as a stand-in for an old flame, something for him to vent his frustration with.

"There's no need to treat her like a person. As long as the Godfather's satisfied, even if he screws her to death tonight, that's fine too. As long as my debt is cleared!"