"Inmate 019, you've got a visitor."
The call echoed through the women's prison cafeteria.
Mia Stone was halfway through her meal when the guard barked her number and jerked his chin toward the door. She put down her spoon and followed him out.
In the visitation room, she saw her father, Henry Stone.
In the five years since she'd been tricked into taking the fall and going to prison, this was the first time anyone from the Stone family had bothered to see her. Her heart, against her will, trembled with a faint, foolish excitement.
"Mia, how have you been these last few years?" Henry asked.
"I'm fine," she said flatly.
"That's good." Henry's face softened into a warm, fatherly smile. "I came to see you, of course, but also to tell you some good news. The family has arranged to get you out on parole—and we've arranged a marriage for you."
He paused, then added with a kind of proud satisfaction, "The groom is Lucian Reed of the Reed family. Once you marry him, you'll be Mrs. Reed, the most respected woman in Harbor City. Your future will be secured."
Lucian Reed.
Heir to the most powerful of Harbor City's Four Great Families. A man known for his ruthless means and decisive methods, a living legend since childhood, the dream husband of every socialite and debutante in the city.
But—
"Dad," Mia said lightly, "prison isn't cut off from the world. A month ago I already saw the news. Lucian Reed is gravely ill and may not live much longer."
Her gaze was cool. "Since when did becoming a widow turn into 'the best future'?"
Henry clearly hadn't expected her to know. His smile faltered before he forced it back into place.
"I know it's a grievance for you," he said awkwardly, "but Old Mr. Reed had an astrologer read your birth chart. He specifically named you. He believes your birth date can turn Lucian's luck around. How could I possibly refuse?"
He leaned forward, voice lowering.
"Besides, Mia, you're a convicted felon. You have a criminal record. If not for this marriage, this… blessing, what right would you have to step into the Reed family's gates?"
The brief warmth in Mia's chest vanished without a trace. Ice settled in its place.
She gave a faint, mocking smile. "Looks like you've forgotten, Dad. Do you also not remember who I became a criminal for?"
Henry's expression tightened.
"Mia, just help the family one more time, all right?" he said, his tone turning pleading. "No matter what, you're still a Stone. Your mother and I raised you for over twenty years. It wasn't easy. You can't just stand by and watch us die."
Mia's face stayed cold.
"Five years ago, when you asked me to take the blame, you said exactly the same thing," she reminded him quietly. "If I remember correctly, you even signed an agreement with me."
Her lips curled.
"'Mia Stone will go to prison in place of Sean Stone. In exchange, twenty years of raising her will be considered paid in full.'"
Sean Stone was her half-brother. He was the one who'd committed illegal financial fraud back then.
After everything blew up, in order to escape punishment, the beloved eldest son had shoved his illegitimate little sister out front to take the fall.
"If there's nothing else," Mia said, rising, "you can go, Dad."
"Mia."
Henry called after her. The kindly mask dropped from his face, leaving it smooth and cold. For a man in his fifties he was still well preserved, but now there was only cruelty in his eyes.
"You don't care if the Stone family lives or dies," he said softly. "Fine. But what about those two little bastards you gave birth to? Are you going to abandon them too?"
Mia went still.
She turned back slowly, her gaze sharpening to a blade.
Five years ago, her half-sister Rachel had set her up, drugging her and sending her into a hotel room with a stranger. Mia had woken up with no memory, only to realize later that she was pregnant.
She'd carried the babies in prison and given birth to twin boys behind bars.
Henry had come to the prison, taken the babies away, and promised he would raise them well.
For the sake of giving her sons a chance at a normal life, Mia had forced herself to let them go. She had watched her father walk away with them, her arms empty, her heart bleeding.
And now he was using those same children to threaten her.
For the first time, Mia truly doubted whether her boys were safe in the Stone household at all.
Her stomach twisted with fear and rage. How were her children really living in that house?
Henry's voice was ice.
"You marry him, the kids live," he said. "You don't marry him, everyone dies together."
Hatred surged up in Mia's chest.
So this was her great father.
She dug her nails into her palm until sharp pain cleared her mind. Only then did she speak through clenched teeth.
"Fine," she said. "I'll marry him."
Her eyes were dark and steady.
"But this is the last time. If anyone ever dares use my children to threaten me again, I'll show them what 'mutual destruction' really means."
Henry exhaled in obvious relief when she finally agreed. He opened his mouth, probably to say a few more syrupy words to mend their "relationship."
But Mia had already turned away without a backward glance.
…
Back in her cell, Mia carefully pulled a worn photograph from beneath her thin prison pillow.
It was an old picture. Two newborn babies lay side by side, eyes wide open, tiny fists waving. Their faces were scrunched up with innocent, gummy smiles.
Mia's fingertip traced their soft cheeks in the photo. Her eyes went gentle, soft as water.
"Are we done yet?" Henry's impatient voice sounded outside the bars.
Mia tucked the photo back against her skin, close to her heart. When she opened the cell door, her expression was frosted over again.
"Let's go," she said.
After she walked out of prison, Mia didn't go back to the Stone house at all. In the same faded clothes she'd worn five years ago, she was driven straight to the Reed family estate.
The Reeds had been powerful for over a century. Their roots ran deep, their family tree sprawling with relatives and branches. Word that Mia was coming to marry in had spread; a crowd of people waited in the living room to see the show.
When they saw her—thin, pale, in an old, out-of-date dress—several people couldn't hold back their sneers.
"For a family that still calls itself 'old money,' you'd think the Stones could at least afford her a decent outfit," someone drawled.
"What's the point?" another woman said with a laugh. "No designer dress can cover up that stench of a criminal record. Might as well save the money. Small, petty families always know how to calculate. Otherwise they wouldn't be trading away a convicted daughter for a three-hundred-million bride price."
"Exactly. But her birth chart is lucky, they say. As long as she can change Lucian's fate and bring him good luck, even three billion would be worth it."
Old Mr. Reed shot them a cold look.
The room fell silent at once.
Then his expression softened a little as he turned to Mia.
"You must be Mia," he said. "Since you're marrying in, take good care of Lucian. Live a good life together."
Mia's lashes trembled.
She heard the unspoken threat clearly enough: only if she took care of Lucian well would she be allowed to live well in this house.
She lowered her head obediently. "Yes, sir."
The word had barely left her lips when a panicked shout came from the staircase.
"The young master is crashing!"
Old Mr. Reed shot to his feet. For a man with a cane, he moved fast, charging toward the second floor with surprising speed. The rest of the family hurried after him.
Mia hesitated for a moment, then followed.
By the time she reached the doorway, the doctor had already stepped out, his expression heavy with apology.
"Mr. Reed," he said, "we've done everything we can. The young master's condition is extremely severe. Whether he can pull through this crisis depends entirely on his own willpower."
The elegant woman at the door—Lucian's mother—let out a broken sob.
"My poor son!"
Old Mr. Reed staggered back a few steps.
"Sir!" The butler rushed forward to support him.
He waved a trembling hand, suddenly looking decades older. Even a man who had dominated the business world for half a lifetime couldn't withstand the pain of possibly outliving his grandson.
Then his gaze fell on Mia, standing quietly to one side.
His eyes lit up.
"Mia," he said sharply. "Come here."
Mrs. Reed seemed to think of the same thing—the "lucky bride" brought here to turn her son's fate.
She forgot all about her usual composure. She rushed over, seized Mia's wrist, and dragged her forward.
"Save my son!" she cried.
Before Mia could say a single word, Mrs. Reed shoved her through the bedroom door and slammed it shut behind her.
Bang.
Mia stared at the closed door for a second, speechless.
So they were just going to throw her in here with him and hope for the best? No explanation, no instructions. Were they expecting her to heal him with positive vibes and good intentions?
She took a deep breath and walked over to the bed.
The man lying in the middle of the king-sized white bed was stunning.
His features were cut deep and sharp, his brows straight, his nose high and elegant. His face looked as if it had been carved by a god's hand. Even unconscious, he radiated an effortless, aristocratic arrogance that no sickness could blunt.
A man like this was born to stand above others, a natural king, used to the worship and deference of the world.
But now his skin was bloodless, his lips tinged blue, and a faint grayish shadow clung between his brows.
His body was screaming a message to anyone who could read it.
Running out of time.
Mia sat by the bed for a while, then finally reached out and took his wrist, fingers pressing against his pulse.
"Hm?"
Her expression shifted.
Lucian Reed wasn't dying from some mysterious illness at all.
He'd been poisoned.
Mia's first instinct was to pretend she hadn't noticed.
Families like this—old, powerful, rotting from the inside—were full of ugly secrets. If she stepped into them, she might not walk out alive.
But in the end, she couldn't just stand by.
It wasn't that she cared whether this "bargain-bin husband" lived or died.
What she cared about were the two boys still in Henry Stone's hands.
If Lucian died on the very first day she married into the Reeds, the family would inevitably blame the Stones. Knowing her father's character, he would never spare her children.
Mia drew a long breath to steady herself.
Then she reached under her collar and pulled out a slim, worn leather case she'd kept hidden close to her body all these years.
Her acupuncture kit.
Silver needles flashed between her fingers like streaks of lightning as she drove them, one by one, into key points all over his body.
Her fingertips brushed each needle lightly. A low, metallic hum vibrated through the air as the long needles resonated.
Minutes passed.
Just as the humming finally faded and Mia was about to remove the needles, the bedroom door burst open.
Her heart lurched.
She yanked the silver needles out in one swift motion.
On the bed, Lucian's body jerked.
He turned his head to the side and suddenly coughed up a mouthful of dark, clotted blood. The stain spread quickly across the pristine sheets.
His face went ashen-gray in an instant. Blood welled from the corners of his eyes, his nose, his ears—all his features twisted into something ghastly, terrifying to behold.