Chapter 1

I thought my husband had been kidnapped while working abroad. I wanted to call the police, but he said the kidnappers were too powerful and it would be better to just pay the ransom.

I believed him and somehow managed to scrape together $3 million to go abroad and rescue him. But the moment I landed, someone knocked me out. When I woke up, I found myself tied up and brought before the kidnappers.

And there was my husband - the one who was supposed to be kidnapped - smiling obsequiously as he handed over the ransom money to the kidnappers:

"Boss Spike, the money's here, and so is she. About our deal..."

Only then did I realize that my husband planned to trade my life for his future wealth and glory.

But just as the gang of kidnappers was about to "teach me a lesson", I realized the building looked oddly familiar.

Wait, isn't this my uncle's place?

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"Jack Harrison, you'll pay for this!" I glared at the man before me, my eyes burning with fear and hatred.

SLAP!

Jack's face contorted with rage as he shouted something, but the ringing in my ears drowned out his words at first. I probed the inside of my swollen cheek with my tongue, swallowing the metallic taste of blood, and looked up to glare at him defiantly.

"You little bitch, who said you could talk to me like that?" he snarled.

"And you dare to glare at me? Rachel Evans, do you still think you're the high and mighty Miss Evans? You're nothing but a dog under my heel now!"

Jack grabbed my chin, examining my face with cold eyes but a disturbingly playful tone:

"Rachel, you should be grateful you've still got a pretty face. Otherwise, you'd be treated like those other slaves - beaten and abused like the dogs they are. I'm giving you a chance to regain some of your former glory as Miss Evans. You should be thanking me."

"Boss Spike will be here soon. You'd better behave yourself, or else... you'll regret it."

I stared at him, my eyes bloodshot, feeling like I'd never known the man standing before me.

Jack had pursued me for a year, we'd been together for three, and we'd finally tied the knot earlier this year.

Three months ago, my family went bankrupt, leaving Jack and me with massive debts. To earn more money, Jack accepted an overseas assignment from his company. But barely a month later, I suddenly lost all contact with him.

Just as I was about to report him missing, I received a message saying he'd been kidnapped.

Without hesitation, I borrowed $3 million from friends and took a 15-hour flight across the ocean to rescue him.

But I never imagined that the moment I landed, someone would knock me out. When I woke up, I found myself in this dark warehouse.

And there was my husband, Jack Harrison, lounging with a glass of wine in one hand and a beautiful woman in the other, watching me tied up before him with a smug expression.

"Jack, I've never mistreated you or done anything to hurt you in all these years. Why are you doing this to me?!"

"Why?" Jack chuckled, sauntering over to grab a fistful of my hair.

"There's no 'why' about it. If you want to blame someone, blame your family for being so rich, and me for needing money."

"By the way, do you still think the Lee family was behind your family's bankruptcy?"

"What do you mean?" I stared at him in disbelief, unable to process what I was hearing.

Before anyone could answer, the woman standing behind Jack sashayed forward with a coy laugh.

"Miss Evans, what Jack means is that he got close to you for your money, of course," she purred.

"From the very beginning, Jack approached you for your family's wealth. If your father had listened to Jack and let him handle the company, you might still be the high and mighty Miss Evans. But unfortunately, your stubborn old man refused. He even had the gall to call it 'selling out the country'. What a joke - it was a mutually beneficial arrangement, but he had to go and slander it like that."

"And then there's your mother, who dared to eavesdrop on our conversations. Tsk, sending her to a mental hospital was Jack being merciful, considering your years together."

The woman leaned down, tracing my chin with her scarlet fingernail:

"Miss Evans, you'd better not refuse a toast only to drink a forfeit, if you know what I mean."

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