Wushuochun Mountain

Six years ago, my father and all six of my uncles died on the same day.

Cornered in a dark alley by a group of men, I was nearly violated to death.

My bodyguard, Anthony, fought like a man possessed. He sacrificed his leg to secure my position as head of the family.

For six years, I scoured the world for the best doctors, lost a child, and forfeited my own chance at motherhood—all so he could walk again.

Then a girl named Allison arrived with a stack of intimate photos, begging me to give them both a place in this world.

Anthony held her close and exposed my darkest secrets to everyone.

Something in me shattered. The last ember of feeling died. I faked my own death, escaped, and married Nathan of Northgate.

And Anthony went mad.

…

The day Allison came to see me, I was reviewing the quarterly financials for Southport’s new port.

She wore a faded cotton dress, her hair long and unstyled, her face bare. Her eyes were wide and frightened, like a startled fawn.

“Miss… Miss Melissa.” Her voice trembled. “My name is Allison. I… I’m carrying Anthony’s child.”

My finger paused over a line item in the red. I didn’t look up.

“Which Anthony?”

“An… Anthony.” She bit her lip, summoning what seemed like a lifetime’s courage. From a canvas bag, she pulled out a thick stack of photos and slid them toward me. “We’ve been together a long time. He said he would explain it to you.”

The photos spilled across the desk.

They showed a cozy little apartment, the window framing the city’s most garish neon lights.

There was Anthony—an Anthony I hadn’t seen in six years, standing tall. Wearing a simple white t-shirt, his expression soft, he held Allison, kissing her forehead, her lips.

Other images showed him cooking for her, carrying her on his back along a beach, and… more. Far more intimate, tangled scenes.

Each one was like a red-hot needle driven straight into my eyes.

Six years.

After my father and uncles died on the same day, plunging my family into chaos, it was Anthony—then just my most trusted bodyguard—who purged every opponent with ruthless efficiency. He paid for it with his leg.

For six years, I crushed every obstacle in my path, becoming the undisputed head of the family in Southport.

I searched the world for the best doctors for him, tested experimental treatments on myself, even lost our unborn twins. I gave up my own chance to ever be a mother.

I made him my life. My faith.

And all of it was a lie—a carefully constructed deception.

His leg had been fine all along.

“Miss Melissa,” Allison spoke again, a sob creeping into her voice as I remained silent. “I’m not here to ruin things. I just want a name for my child. Anthony said he loves me, that what he feels for you is just… gratitude.”

“Are you finished?” I finally looked up, my gaze steady.

My calm seemed to frighten her. She took an unconscious step back.

I picked up one photo. In it, Anthony held her from behind, his hand resting on her slightly rounded belly, a look of pure contentment on his face.

A happiness I had never seen on him—unshadowed, complete.

“Benjamin,” I called out.

The family steward, Benjamin, well past fifty, entered immediately, hands folded respectfully. “Miss.”

“Take these photos,” I tossed the one in my hand back onto the desk, my fingertips cold, “to The Nightingale Auction House. Rush order. Auction them tonight. Every single one.”

Allison’s face drained of all color. “No! Miss Melissa, you can’t! Anthony will kill me!”

I smiled. Standing, I walked over to her. I was half a head taller and looked down at her pure, innocent face.

“Whether he kills you or not, I don’t know.” Leaning close, I dropped my voice to a whisper only she could hear. “But I do know that starting tonight, all of Southport will get to admire your lovely body. You should be honored.”

Benjamin stepped forward, his face impassive, and gestured for her to leave.

The girl collapsed to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

I stepped around her and walked to the massive floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the city I had conquered.

Anthony, this fire you started… let’s see who it burns in the end.