"Mr. Delgado, today is Assistant Harding's birthday. Ms. Morton arranged a lawn party for him at the estate, and you—well, you're the special gift she's prepared."

"Ms. Morton says if you behave yourself and keep Assistant Harding happy, she'll consider throwing you that engagement banquet after all."

He jerked his chin toward the heavyset passenger beside me.

"Otherwise, we dump you right out that door. This is the highway. You probably won't even finish dialing before the cars behind us turn you into roadkill."

"So sit tight if you want to live. A pretty boy mooching off Ms. Morton's charity, and you actually thought you were the man of the house?"

Only then did I realize I'd been tricked.

I had no idea what Yolanda was playing at.

But no matter what, I wasn't about to gamble with my life. I put my phone away in silence.

The estate was decorated to perfection, even more lavish than the engagement banquet had been.

Yolanda had her arm looped through Nathan's, clinking glasses and exchanging pleasantries with the guests who'd come to celebrate.

Matching jade pendants hung around both their necks.

Anyone who didn't know better would have thought this was their wedding.

When she spotted me, Yolanda walked over, her gaze appraising.

"I hear you were trying to get to the airport. Where exactly were you planning to go?"

My voice was calm. "Home. Is that a problem?"

Something smug flickered in her eyes.

"So you've finally figured it out. Without me, you can't survive in Pearl City. Your only option is crawling back to whatever backwater you came from to till dirt."

"I'm not heartless, though. All you have to do is wear this and play Nathan's little pet for the day. Do that, and I'll let yesterday slide. We'll have the wedding next week."

It was a wooden sign, roughly the size of a laptop screen.

Five words were carved into it in bold, unmistakable letters.

Nathan Harding's Dog.

I stared at her in disbelief.

"You want me to be Nathan Harding's dog?!"

"In your dreams. He could drop dead and still wouldn't deserve it!"

Yolanda's expression went cold in an instant.

"Today is Nathan's birthday, and this is the one gift he wants more than anything. I promised him that whatever he asked for, I'd deliver."

"Besides, you nearly hurt him yesterday. You owe him."

She produced a small resin pendant and held it up like a threat.

"You care so much about sentimental value, don't you?"

"If you don't cooperate, I'll burn this. And then you won't even have a memory left."

The pendant itself was worthless. But sealed inside the resin were strands of my mother's hair.

She had died in an explosion. There was nothing left of her.

Those few strands were all I'd managed to gather, collecting them one by one from around the house.

Having them set in resin made it feel like she was still with me.

The moment I saw Yolanda raise the pendant toward the barbecue grill beside her, I clenched my jaw so hard my teeth ached.

Every word came out ground between them.

"I'll do it."

The crowd erupted in mocking laughter the second I put the sign around my neck. Phones shot up from every direction.

Yolanda smiled, satisfied.

"There we go. Now remember, whatever Nathan asks you to do, you do it. No fuss."

"Don't worry. Keep him happy, and once the party's over, I'll give the pendant back. And everything I promised you—I'll follow through."

I lifted my head, my face completely blank.

"Can I use the restroom?"

Yolanda didn't refuse, but she confiscated my phone.

She even posted two bodyguards at the door, terrified I might try to run.

What she didn't know was that I no longer wanted to leave.

Because leaving would be letting her off too easy.

I shut the stall door and pressed a button on my watch.

A crackle of static hissed through the connection, and then a voice bubbled up from the other end—bright, affectionate, playful.

"Big brother! Didn't you say you were coming back to Harbor City today?"

"I figured you'd be tired, so I brought people to pick you up. Pretty thoughtful of me, right? Where are you?"

I drew a slow breath and kept my voice even.

"I've been detained. She betrayed me. She's trying to force me to be her lover's pet."

"The Delgado Family Code—every kindness repaid, every wrong avenged. You don't need me to tell you what to do."

Silence hung in the air for a single heartbeat.

When Gwendolen Delgado spoke again, every trace of that bubbly warmth was gone. Her voice was ice wrapped around a blade.

"Send me your location. I'm on my way. That piece of filth is dead."

Yolanda had me dragged before Nathan, her tone dripping with tenderness—though none of it was meant for me.

"Nathan, darling, Clement is your personal pet today. You can make him do whatever you want."

"Wow, I always knew Ms. Morton spoiled me the most!" Nathan planted a gleeful kiss on her cheek.

Then his gaze dropped to the wooden sign hanging from my chest, and he burst out laughing.

"So that's why Clement didn't like yesterday's sign made from a beer bottle—turns out he prefers this kind. A born glutton for punishment."

He cocked his head, grinning wider.

"But I've never seen a dog standing in front of its master before. Looks like someone needs to learn some manners first."

The words had barely left his mouth before Yolanda flicked a glance at the bodyguards.

A boot slammed into the backs of my knees.

I crashed to the floor with a dull, heavy thud, pain shooting up through both legs. The entire room erupted in laughter.

I tried to push myself up, but hands clamped down on my shoulders and pinned me in place.

Nathan sauntered over, swaggering with every step, and slapped my face—hard, twice.

"That's better. Dogs should look like dogs."

"Good boy. Are you hungry? Your master prepared something delicious for you."

He snapped his fingers, and someone brought over a trash can from the banquet table. Inside were chicken bones he'd just finished gnawing on, tossed in a heap.

And beneath them—the vomit of some lightweight guest who'd barely managed half a glass before getting sick.

Nathan leaned in close, his lips nearly brushing my ear, his voice a low, taunting whisper.

"You worthless piece of trash. You were so full of yourself yesterday, weren't you? Too bad the one picking through garbage now is you."

So that was what this was about. He was getting back at me for what I'd said the day before.

I lifted my gaze to Yolanda. My voice stayed level.

"Is this what you want too?"

Something flickered behind her eyes—hesitation, maybe—and her lips parted as if to speak.

But Nathan beat her to it, his lower lip jutting out in an exaggerated pout.

"Ms. Morton, I'm only doing this to teach him to behave. So he doesn't throw jealous tantrums whenever he pleases, or threaten you with divorce once you're married."

"Besides, you promised you'd stand up for me. Was that all a lie? Fine then—forget it. I'll return the jade token, resign on the spot, and get out of your sight!"

Yolanda pulled him into her arms, soothing him like a wounded child, then turned to me with the cold authority of a command.

"Clement, don't forget what you just promised me. Or do you not want the pendant anymore?"

"Nathan only has your best interests at heart. What successful woman doesn't have a man on the side? As her husband, you need to learn to be generous and accepting. Consider this a test of your character."

"Don't ruin Nathan's birthday. Eat it, and I promise I won't think less of you. After today, you'll be my one and only Mr. Morton."

My fists clenched slowly at my sides. I stared in silence at the woman I had once given my whole heart to.

When the Morton ancestors left behind that pair of jade tokens, they'd said the tokens could serve as protection in ordinary times—and if the family ever hit rock bottom, they could be sold as seed money for a comeback.

But generation after generation, no matter how bitter or desperate things got, not a single Morton had ever parted with them.

Yolanda's ambitions reached the sky. She wanted to build her own empire, but she refused to sell the heirlooms to do it.

I couldn't bear to see her struggle, and I didn't want to wound her pride.

So I hid my real identity and invested in her from the shadows. Every executive who owed me a favor, I redirected toward Yolanda, quietly funneling projects her way.

Four years of that, and Morton Corp had grown into something formidable.

But she hadn't even reached the top yet before she'd already mastered the art of pampering her lover and trampling the man who'd built her up.

Fine. At least this way, I had no reason to be soft-hearted anymore.

I didn't surrender. Instead, I whipped my head around and sank my teeth into Nathan's wrist.

He'd been leaning in close to savor my humiliation. He never saw it coming.

Nathan shrieked, shoving at my head with both hands. By the time the bodyguards pried me off, the bite mark on his wrist was deep enough to show bone. He was sobbing, wailing.

"Ms. Morton, he's jealous that you gave me the jade pendant! He did this on purpose to get back at me!"

"You have to stand up for me, or I swear I'll kill myself!"

Yolanda was livid. She drove the point of her stiletto into my stomach.

The pain folded me in half. I collapsed to the ground, every organ inside me feeling like it had been knocked loose.

"Clement, you never learn! Fine. Since you don't appreciate the chance I gave you, Nathan will be the groom instead. He's a thousand times more obedient than you'll ever be!"

"You like biting people? A dog that bites its owner doesn't deserve teeth. Someone hold him down and rip out every last one!"

"No anesthesia. Let him remember this pain so he learns to stay in his place as my side piece and never lays a hand on Nathan again!"

A bodyguard fisted my hair and wrenched my head back, forcing my face upward. My scalp screamed, then went numb.

Nathan's face split into a grin. He mouthed the words silently: You lose.

Another bodyguard pried my jaw open. Cold steel pliers clamped around a tooth.

Before they could pull, a deafening roar erupted overhead.

Ten helicopters materialized out of nowhere, hovering low, their rotors shaking the air itself.

Over a hundred bodyguards in black-and-gold uniforms descended from rope ladders, steel batons holstered at their hips. They fell into formation behind a striking woman whose beauty was matched only by the killing intent carved into her expression.

Nathan stared, slack-jawed, then clapped his hands over his mouth in excitement.

"Ms. Morton, did you hire a performance troupe for my birthday? This is amazing!"

I let the corner of my mouth curl upward, slow and deliberate.

Let's see if you're still smiling when they grind you into the dirt.