Chapter 1

To scrape together cash for my brother, my mother helped him drug me.

I had always known she favored him, so I spent my whole life being obedient, never daring to cross her.

Yet when I couldn't produce eight hundred thousand dollars, her palm cracked savagely across my face.

"Mr. Bailey is the richest man in all of New York! You should be on your knees thanking God he even looked your way. You dare turn this down? I'll break your legs!"

I begged them through my tears, met only by cold indifference.

In the end, I died completely alone in a hospital bed.

Three months later, when news of my death finally reached them, their eyes turned red with regret.

Fresh out of college, I rushed straight home.

In my hands was a birthday cake I’d picked out for Mom, ready to give her a sweet surprise.

The second I stepped inside, the living room was a trashed mess. Mom was slouched on the couch, spewing curses.

"Leo got himself a fiancée and forgot he even has a mother! Where the hell am I supposed to find eight hundred thousand dollars to pay for his wedding?"

Seeing me walk in, she shot up and grabbed my arm so violently that the cake went flying. It hit the floor, splattering into an unrecognizable heap of frosting.

"Flora, do you have any savings? Help your brother out!"

I had paid my way through college working multiple part-time jobs, paycheck to paycheck. Where would I get extra money for Leo?

I shook my head, my fingers curling tightly into my sleeves.

A medical report slipped from my jacket pocket onto the floor, but she didn't even spare it a glance.

Hearing I had nothing, she grabbed a broom, planted her hands on her hips, and started screaming.

"You worthless jinx! I told you not to waste your time on college! You should’ve started working years ago to pull your weight in this house, but no, you wouldn't listen. What good is an educated girl anyway?"

Dad was smoking a cigar, chiming in to smooth things over.

"What’s the point of blaming her now? The priority is figuring out how to get that cash to Leo. We can't let a great marriage fall apart over money."

Leo was my younger brother. Around New Year’s, he started dating a girl from a wealthy background. Her family initially asked for a two-hundred-thousand-dollar bride price, but within six months, their demands skyrocketed to eight hundred thousand.

Heavy sighs and bitter groans instantly filled the cramped house.

I knelt down to pick up the ruined cake, tears dripping into the cream.

A sharp, throbbing ache flared behind my temples again. The doctor had told me I only had three months left, advising me to spend them surrounded by family.

Yet their eyes had room only for my brother. They had stopped caring about me a long time ago.

That night, Leo returned home, trailed by men in sharp suits who carried an unsettling aura.

One of them looked me over with cold detachment, then pulled Mom into the adjacent room. Whispers drifted through the door.

When they finally emerged, Mom and Leo were bowing and scraping, holding a freshly signed check.

On it was written the staggering amount: eight hundred thousand dollars.

I stared at them in confusion. But they were grinning—grins like demons clawing their way out of hell, sending chills straight down my spine.

"Flora," Leo said, his eyes glittering with greed as he clutched the check. "I found you a home rolling in cash. You won't have to worry about food or shelter for the rest of your life. You really ought to thank me."

To get his eight hundred thousand... they sold me?

I tried to suppress the absurd, terrifying thought. But Mom was already shoving me toward the men, plastering a fawning smile on her face.

"We’re so sorry. Just give us a few days, and you can come back to pick Flora up."

She smooth-talked the men until they finally left.

The instant the front door clicked shut, Mom swung her arm and slapped me hard across the face. My cheek swelled instantly.

I collapsed to my knees, dizzy, waiting for my vision to clear.

"Mr. Bailey is the wealthiest man in New York! You should be thanking your lucky stars he picked you! You dare turn your nose up at this? I’ll break your damn legs!"

She darted toward the kitchen, grabbing a wooden rolling pin to beat me with, but Dad grabbed her arm.

"If you cripple her, who’s going to go be his granddaughter? You, you old hag?"