Chapter 3

The heavy metal door slammed shut with a resounding thud, cutting off all light and sound from the outside world.

The temperature inside was negative ten degrees.

The biting, freezing air instantly pierced through my thin clothes, making me shiver violently.

But the cold wasn't the real killer. It was the lack of oxygen.

My allergic reaction was reaching its final, fatal stage.

My vision went completely pitch-black. My brain spun from the lack of oxygen.

I curled up on the freezing floor, gasping like a fish out of water, my mouth wide open, unable to pull in a single breath.

Why? I asked myself a thousand times in the dark.

I was their biological daughter.

I was the one who had been kidnapped and suffered for eighteen years in poverty.

Why did they give all their love to an adopted impostor?

Was it because I didn't know how to act cute?

Was it because I lacked Olivia’s elegant, high-society manners?

For two years in this house, I had lived worse than a dog.

Whenever Olivia casually said she "liked my bedroom," I was kicked out and sent to the drafty attic.

Whenever Olivia claimed my poor grades "embarrassed the family," I was forced to drop out of college and do chores around the house.

Even this cursed card-drawing game was suggested by Olivia "by accident."

And every time, she drew the Ace of Hearts.

I used to think I just had bad luck. I thought I didn't deserve happiness.

But tonight, as death gripped my throat, the truth finally flashed through my fading mind.

There was no such thing as luck.

How could anyone draw the Ace of Hearts perfectly, every single day, for two straight years from a full deck?

It was a setup. A blatant, slow-motion murder disguised as a game.

My consciousness was slipping.

My heartbeat grew faint, and my limbs lost all sensation.

Just when I thought I was going to die in this cold, dark tomb, a warm, kindly face flashed in my mind.

My grandfather, James Vance.

"Chloe, if those Sterlings ever make you unhappy, come to New York. My home will always be your shield."

James Vance was the head of the Vance Group, one of the most powerful conglomerates in New York.

Two years ago, when I was found, James had tried to take me in. But Arthur, obsessed with his public image, refused to let me go.

Back then, I naively believed my biological parents would eventually love me.

I was wrong. Dead wrong.

I couldn't die here. I refused to die in this filthy, dark corner!

I hadn't exposed Olivia's lies yet. I hadn't made these blind monsters pay for what they did to me!

A sudden, fierce will to live erupted from the depths of my soul.

I bit my tongue hard. The sharp pain brought a brief moment of clarity.

Groping around in the dark with my unbroken left hand, I grabbed a heavy, frozen leg of ham from the shelf.

Using every ounce of strength left in my body, I smashed it against the small glass ventilation window in the corner.