Chapter 3

Ethan knew. He knew damn well that I had a life-threatening allergy to mangoes!

My pupils dilated, and acting purely on survival instinct, I spun around to run toward the guest room. I needed to get my phone and call Arthur!

But Ethan had spent years in the brutal underworld; his reflexes were far superior to mine.

Before I could even take a step, he grabbed my shoulder in a vice grip. His other hand violently pinched my jaw, forcing my mouth open.

"Scared now?"

"Too late!"

He sneered, snatching the thick, yellow mango juice from the servant and pouring it down my throat without a shred of hesitation. I thrashed wildly, my nails digging into his arms until they bled, but he didn't even flinch.

Once the glass was empty, he threw me onto the floor like a piece of trash.

Within seconds, my throat began to swell shut. Gasping for air became an agonizing struggle.

I curled up on the carpet, clawing at my neck as my face turned from red to purple, then to a deathly, pale gray.

Ethan stood over me, his face a mask of cold indifference.

Beside him, Scarlett smirked with twisted satisfaction.

Just when I thought my lungs would give out completely, the family doctor gathered his courage and whispered:

"Mr. Vance... if this continues, she will die!"

Silence hung heavy in the room for a few agonizing seconds.

Then, Ethan clicked his tongue in annoyance:

"Ugh, what a pain. Give her an EpiPen. Just don't let her die here."

Without another glance at me, he bent down, scooped Scarlett up in his arms with utmost care, and murmured gently:

"It’s okay, Scarlett."

"The servants have changed the bedding. I'll carry you back to rest. Don't worry about this nonsense."

Their silhouettes disappeared from my sight.

Fortunately, the doctor injected me with the anti-allergy medication, and my throat slowly opened up. But because of Ethan's cruel attitude, none of the servants dared to help me up.

I lay there on the cold hardwood floor like a dying fish until midnight.

It was only when I regained a sliver of strength that I dragged my bruised, shaking body back to the guest room.

The moment I collapsed onto the bed, I checked my phone.

Only three days left.

In three days, I would be entirely free.

After that night, I learned my lesson. I kept myself locked in the guest room, refusing to step outside unless absolutely necessary.

I just wanted to quietly survive the next three days.

But peace is a luxury the mafia never allows.

I didn't expect Scarlett to strike again so soon. The night before Arthur was scheduled to pick me up, as I finished packing my bags, my door was violently kicked open!

Scarlett stormed in, flanked by a dozen heavily armed Vance Syndicate thugs.

She pointed a finger at me, screaming to the men:

"It's her! Seraphina Miller!"

"I found the proof! She’s the rat who leaked our harbor shipping route to our enemies. Because of her, our cargo was hijacked, and so many of our brothers were killed!"

Fourth Chapter