Richest Mogul

Sterling studied Vivian's delicate frame, noting how fragile her slender wrists seemed. It wouldn't take much to snap them. And yet, this fragile-looking woman dared to threaten him.

It was the funniest thing he'd heard in ages.

"Have you ever killed anyone?" Sterling asked with a smirk, his tone laced with amusement. He could tell at a glance her eyes were too clear, untouched by bloodshed. No killer carried such purity in their gaze.

He had seen enough killers to know the difference.

Vivian's face remained impassive. "If you don't believe me, come closer."

Sterling chuckled, clapping his hands together in a slow, mocking rhythm. "Well, well," he drawled. "So this is how you convinced Manfred to keep you alive? Impressive. But let's see if your talents are equally... diverse."

He turned to the two men flanking him. "Take her."

With that order given, he shot Vivian a final glance before striding toward a nearby cabinet. He yanked the door open. It was empty save for a few bottles and jars.

Suddenly, a scream shattered the quiet.

Sterling spun.

One of the men had his throat slit, blood gushing from the wound. The other gripped his wrist, blood dripping between his fingers.

The attack was swift and precise. The tables had turned in seconds.

Sterling's amusement vanished. His gaze hardened. "You dare fight back? Let me show you what defiance costs."

he flicked his wrist, a fine powder scattering through the

blood.

vision blurred, the world tilting. Darkness

she felt herself

was carried out

faint mechanical sound clicked from

later, Manfred emerged from beneath

the bed's hidden mechanism, he

voice

No one answered.

gaze swept the small secret chamber. She was nowhere

gaze fell on a dark red stain on the floor. His

"Vivian!"

The moment she stirred, she knew she had been taken

her eyes

scent hung in the

she overheard hushed

Mr. Bowman must really care

how

from the black market. We're official

no way someone like her