I developed a high fever on the first night back at the manor.

My stomach hurt so badly that I curled into a ball.

Cold sweat soaked the bedsheets. I gasped for air like a dying fish, and I struggled to breathe.

I wanted to live.

I called Cesare. It was the backup phone he had specifically left for me.

The phone rang for a long time before someone answered. Deafening heavy metal music blasted on the other end, though.

I could hear Winter's excited squeals.

"Who is this?" snapped Cesare impatiently.

"Cesare, I'm sick… Save me…" I groaned.

My voice was so weak, it was almost inaudible. Every word felt like it tore my lungs apart.

"Don't ruin the mood if you're not dead," he sneered. "Winter is playing death roulette right now. Are you trying to curse me to lose by calling me at a time like this?" he added.

The call was cut off without mercy.

I forced myself to get up. I planned to go to the medicine room to find some antibiotics.

The door was pushed open from the outside.

Winter walked in with two burly mafia bodyguards.

She carried a bucket filled with ice.

"I heard you have a fever, Rene?" she asked, smiling like an innocent angel.

"Cesare asked me to check on you and help cool you down," she said.

She signaled the guards, and before I could react, I was dragged to the fountain in the courtyard.

Cecilian winters were not freezing, but the wind was bone-chilling cold.

The guards roughly forced me into the icy water.

Splash!

I screamed and struggled, but they held me down.

"Are you feeling more awake now, Rene? Cesare said a woman full of schemes like you should soak in cold water more often," she said.

Winter stood by the pool, calmly stirring her coffee.

Cesare returned at that moment.

A strong smell of blood clung to him.

Winter immediately dropped the coffee and rushed into his arms while crying.

"Cesare! It's Rene! She's gone crazy. She insisted on jumping into the water to hurt herself. She said you abused her and that she was going to sell our shipping routes to our enemies!" she accused.

Cesare looked at me, drenched and shaking in the cold wind.

He looked at my frozen face that was turning bluish-purple.

There was no pity in his eyes, only cruelty.

"Selling our routes?" he asked.

He walked over, grabbed my wet hair, and shoved my head into the water.

Gurgle, gurgle!

Water flooded my nose. The suffocating feeling of death rushed back again.

Only when I was about to pass out did he pull me up.

"You don't give up until you've met your consequences, Rene," he said.

He kicked me aside and told the guards, "Lock her in the interrogation room in the basement. Don't give her medicine and water. Let her clear her head in there."

I was locked inside that room, filled with dried blood stains and the rotting stench.

The wounds on my knees and the soles of my feet quickly became infected after being soaked in ice-cold water.

The high fever blurred my consciousness.

The vision of my past life came to view again, and I was back to the moment when I was thrown into the sea.

It was cold. Oh-so cold.

…

The next morning, I was awakened again by cold water being splashed on me.

The doctor was kneeling on the floor, and his hands were shaking.

"Mr. Xandri… She's developed acute sepsis… She won't survive tonight if she isn't treated," he said.

Cesare lit a cigar and looked at me indifferently.

"Let her die if she doesn't survive. It's a miracle she's lasted this long," he said.

Suddenly, he exhaled a ring of smoke as if he thought of something.

"I still need to use her before she dies," he said.

He threw a contract at me.

"Carlos specifically asked for you. I'll give you a chance to live as long as you make him happy tonight," he said.

Carlos, that perverted illegal arms dealer who loved using precise instruments to torture and kill women in bed.

Cesare was willing to send me to hell to protect his smuggling business while I was seriously ill.

I clenched the bedsheet tightly and stared at his handsome yet ruthless face.

Koma looked like a canvas washed in blood under the night sky.

I was changed into a very thin nightgown.

Cesare's bodyguards shoved me into the top-floor hotel suite where Carlos was staying.

My body burned with cold. The dizziness from sepsis kept me from being conscious.

I was inside the room.

Carlos was shirtless, playing with a high-voltage stun baton in his hand. Bits of skin from some unknown woman were still stuck on it.

"The Cesare kid actually sent me his best treasure this time," said Carlos.

He laughed eerily, causing his body fat to shake.

The air was filled with cheap cologne and a rotten smell.

The drugs fully took effect at that moment.

My body felt overheated, but the fever and wounds left me too weak to fight back.

Carlos was about to put his filthy hands on my chest.

I opened my eyes suddenly.

Using the last bit of strength I had, I grabbed the table lamp and smashed it hard against his head.

Crash! The lamp shattered.

He screamed and fell while I reached under his pillow.

I found a small handgun. A Beretta, to be exact.

I knew it was not loaded, but I still pulled the trigger to scare off the guards who were trying to rush in.

I then stumbled out of the room before I eventually found myself in the hallway.

The sound of leather shoes rushed closer. I could hear Cesare; his furious voice echoed through my earpiece.

"Rene! How dare you hurt Carlos? Your family will die for this!" he threatened.

I laughed bitterly.

'My family? You sent my family to the crematorium in my past life, you madman,' I snarled to myself.

I staggered toward the end of the hallway.

My vision became blurry. Every step felt like dancing on knives because of the wounds on my feet.

The guards pulled the trigger behind me.

Bang!

A bullet grazed my cheek and hit an expensive painting on the wall.

Despair surged like icy water, almost swallowing me whole.

I crashed open a solid wood door at that moment.

It was the executive suite on the top floor, also the only forbidden area in the hotel.

The room was dark with only faint city lights filtered in from outside.

A man sat with his back to me in a high-backed leather chair with a glass of red wine in his hand. His presence was intimidating, suffocating.

The footsteps behind me reached the door.

I had no time to think, so I locked the door immediately.

I did not care who he was. I rushed forward.

Then, I clung tightly to his leg and lifted my face, which was drenched in cold sweat and flushed red from fever.

Tears slid down my cheeks. My voice trembled with desperation and dangerous softness.

"Save me… I'll do anything as long as you save me.

"I'm Cesare Xandri's woman… I'm the best bargaining chip if you want to humiliate him…" I begged.

His hand, which was holding the wine glass, paused slightly.

He slowly turned his head.

That cold and restrained face of his was perfect, like a marble statue.

It made me freeze in place.

He was Wade Ferrani, the ruler of the ancient Corleone family in Ithel.

He was the mafia boss Cesare had desperately tried to butter up, yet never got to meet.

He looked down at me, his gaze as cold as ice.

"Cesare's woman?" he repeated.

His long fingers lifted my chin. A faint and amused smile curved his lips.

"You brought this on yourself," he said.