Chapter 2

When I woke up, my head was still foggy.

My hands were bound behind me with rough rope that dug painfully into my wrists.

The yacht’s engine rumbled low, meaning we’d already left port.

Outside the door came Vivian’s voice, barely suppressing her wild excitement.

“Martha! Mr. Holt’s people said he’s heading to the lower deck now!”

“Once the camera catches footage of Mr. Holt torturing Skyler, my livestream will blow up!”

“Then Mr. Holt’s exclusive interview will be mine too, and the Jones family will be saved!”

Martha’s voice followed, dripping with disgusting flattery.

“Don’t worry, Vivian. I gave her enough drugs — she doesn’t even have the strength to bite her tongue off.”

“Once Mr. Holt gets tired of her, we’ll use the video to blackmail her into giving up all her shares.”

“This bitch grew up in the countryside. She’s trash in her bones. Serving Mr. Holt is the luckiest thing that could happen to her in several lifetimes.”

Trash. Lucky.

I leaned against the cold iron wall and smiled coldly.

Five years ago, the Jones family brought me back from the countryside.

I thought it was family calling me home. Turned out they needed bone marrow for Vivian, who had leukemia.

After they drained my marrow, they threw me in the basement to eat leftovers.

Meanwhile, Vivian took my design drafts and transformed herself into New York’s darling talent.

Now the Jones family’s capital chain had broken. They were about to go bankrupt.

They’d heard that the all-powerful tech mogul Mr. Holt was hosting a private party on his yacht tonight.

Rumor had it Mr. Holt was violent and cruel, loved torturing disobedient women.

So Martha, without hesitation, drugged my water.

Packaged me up and sent me here to secure Vivian’s bright future.

The drug’s effects were slowly fading.

My fingers could already move.

I turned my wrist slightly, and the micro blade hidden in my sleeve slid into my palm.

Three seconds.

The rough rope snapped.

I rubbed my reddened wrists and stood up.

I could draw this yacht’s lower cabin structure with my eyes closed.

Because three years ago, I’d written every line of code for this boat’s smart control system.

Back then, Ethan Holt wasn’t any Mr. Holt.

He was just a stray dog, covered in blood, collapsed in a rainy alley.

I picked him up, taught him to code, taught him business, taught him how to crush the people who’d stepped on him.

He knelt before me and said his life belonged to me.

Later, his ambition grew too large. To climb higher, he’d use any means — even wanted to lock me in a cage.

I kicked him away, erased all traces of myself, and disappeared completely.

Three years.

I heard he went crazy looking for me, turned New York upside down.

Never expected Martha would deliver me to him today.

The micro camera on my chest blinked with a faint red light.

Vivian’s livestream had already started.

I reached up and pinched the button-sized camera between my fingers. But I didn’t crush it.

If she wanted a livestream, I’d give her a real show.

I walked to the cabin door and raised my foot.

“Bang!”

The heavy iron door flew open with my kick.

In the corridor outside stood two bodyguards in black suits.

Hearing the noise, they whipped around, faces full of shock.

“You… how did you get free?!”

I ignored them and walked straight out.

“Stop! Mr. Holt’s prey dares to run!”

One bodyguard pulled out his baton and charged at me viciously.

I sidestepped, grabbed his wrist, and twisted hard.

“Crack!”

The sound of breaking bone echoed crisply in the corridor.

The bodyguard screamed. His baton clattered to the floor.

I kicked him behind the knee. He dropped to the ground with a thud.

The other bodyguard backed away in terror, reaching for his radio.

“Calling captain! The cargo escaped! She knows how to fight!”

Cargo. They called me cargo too.

I picked up the baton from the floor and walked toward him step by step.

“This boat’s security system is the old version from three years ago.”

I looked at him, my tone calm.

“You didn’t even upgrade the system, and you dare try to stop me?”

The bodyguard froze, clearly not understanding what I meant.

I swung the baton hard at the side of his neck.

His eyes rolled back and he collapsed limply.

I stepped over their bodies and headed to the control panel at the end of the corridor.

My fingers tapped rapidly across the screen.

“Beep — ”

System access unlocked.

I took direct control of the yacht’s internal surveillance network.

And while I was at it, I switched Vivian’s livestream signal to the yacht’s big screens.

The show was about to begin.