Chapter 2

The hospital room smelled like antiseptic and rain. Lina hated the hospitals. She despised this place. As a kid, she held her mother hand between these four walls, and watched her die, while her father did nothing but party around with the hottest women in LA.

A steady beeping sound dragged her from unconsciousness. For a long time, Lina didn't open her eyes. She couldn't. Not because of pain, but because she was afraid of what she'd see.

Or wouldn't see.

Silence. Not even a nurse. Not even her father. No one cares if she lives or die after all.

Finally, she blinked.

White ceiling. Sterile lights. A dull ache in her ribs. She was alive. She sighed, wishing she wasn't.

The last thing she remembered was the river. Its icy pull, and the way it welcomed her like an old friend. Then… nothing. Just black.

Until now.

She tried to sit up. A sharp pain clawed down her spine. She gasped and collapsed against the pillow. That's when she noticed it.

The ring on her finger was gone.

The ring she never took off. Not because it was expensive, but because she bought it herself. A symbol of the life she tried to build.

Gone. Like everything else.

There was a soft click at the door. She turned her head, and a man stepped in.

No white coat. No clipboard. No flowers. Just a dark suit, black gloves, and eyes that sliced through the room like blades of ice.

He was tall. Impossibly tall. His features are chiseled, elegant, and distant as if sculpted from winter itself.

He didn't speak.

Not at first.

He simply looked at her, as though assessing something broken and deciding whether it was worth keeping.

"You didn't want to die." His voice was smooth. Low. Unapologetic.

She blinked. "What?"

"You didn't jump to die," he said. "You jumped to disappear."

She stared.

"Who are you?" she rasped.

He pulled a chair beside her bed and sat without invitation, or care. She managed to catch a glimpse of his eyes, and a gasp almost left her lips.

Those eyes were so emotionless, and deep.

"Someone who sees value in what the world throws away." He replied. Just like that, no explanation.

He placed a black folder on her bedside. Slide it toward her with two fingers.

With curiosity warred with exhaustion, she opened it. Inside were documents. A passport. A new name.

Rielle Vaughn.

And at the bottom of the stack, was a non-disclosure agreement, and a contract worth more than she'd ever seen in her life.

She looked up, dazed. "What is this?"

"A rebirth," he said simply. "Your life is over, Miss Yeong. What I'm offering is a new one. One where you won't be ignored. Or forgotten."

She swallowed. "And what do you get?"

A slow smile curved his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"You have three questions left to ask, and I'm not sure you want to waste it knowing about me."

Lina—no, Rielle—looked back down at the passport. Her new face stared up at her from the photo. She didn't even recognize herself.

"I don't have money," she whispered.

"I didn't ask for money," he said. "I asked for loyalty."

"And if I say no?"

His smile vanished. "Then you walk out of this hospital as Lina Yeong. Fired. Forgotten. Alone. The river didn't kill you, Miss Yeong. But the world will."

She closed her eyes.

The last image that burned her was Cleo's smirk. Liam's hand brushing her cheek. Her father threw her under the bus, and everyone in her life stepped on her as a stepping stone.

Lina Yeong had already died.

When she opened her eyes again, they were colder. Not thinking again, she signed the contract, and accepted the face surgery.

...….

Six Months Later – Milan

The wind was sharp, the kind that carried whispers and watched every step. Rielle walked like a storm that had learned how to wear heels.

Her posture was blade-straight. Her dress, custom-tailored. Her face, elegant and unreadable.

She no longer flinched at mirrors.

The woman walking beside her was no different from her, with her head held high, voice low and commanding. She was one of Europe's most ruthless image architects. Xander had hired only the best.

Rielle had trained in negotiation, etiquette, seduction, and investment. She'd been groomed for one thing: to be untouchable.

But no matter how far she came, Xander remained distant.

Always in the shadows. Watching. Testing. She has not seen him since the night he left her hospital ward. If it were an average person, she would have forgotten what he looks like but you can't forget men like Xander.

She was in her room at the penthouse, undoing her heels, when the door opened. Her eyes sharpen but softened the moment they landed on the imposing tall figure who just walked in.

Xander.

He didn't ask to come in. He never asked permission for anything. He just drop his demands, and disappear.

"You're ready," he said.

Rielle took a step back, startled. "For what?"

He stepped closer. "To go back."

Her breath caught.

"You did what I asked," he said. "You have your freedom now,"

She held his gaze. "I thought you needed me to assassinate people."

He stepped into her space. A bit too close, too cold, and too calculated. His hand reached up, just barely touching her chin.

The ghost of a touch made her blood burn, and she realized that he still wore his black gloves.

"You shouldn't assume or ask questions," he murmured. "You changed your identity as I asked and now, you're free to return."

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

"And when it's over?" she asked.

His jaw clenched. "Then you'll leave me behind." A flicker of emotion passed through his eyes.

She frowned. "What?"

"You don't belong to me," he said.

Then he walked out.

And for the first time in six months… Rielle didn't feel cold. Watching him walk out just like that left her confused. What the hell was going on with her life?