Elena Jefferson snapped her eyes open, her spine pressed flat against the freezing concrete floor of the underground wine cellar. The damp air smelled of rotting moss and old oak barrels. She raised her pale right hand and pressed her palm against her lower right abdomen. The skin under her shirt was completely smooth. Her fingers froze. There were no thick surgical stitches, and the tearing agony of having her kidney carved out without enough anesthesia was gone. Memories of her death flooded her brain, making her stomach churn. She remembered the blinding operating lights in the illegal underground clinic and the sharp stench of antiseptic. Above the hum of the machines, her adoptive father Alonza Hendrix had spoken in a cold, flat voice. "Carley needs a healthy kidney, Elena. This is your only chance to repay the Hendrix family for taking you in from the orphanage." They had drugged the water she drank, waited until she collapsed unconscious, and only then had they found their chance to strap her down and cut out her kidney. Her own people—the ones she trusted—had been bought off by the family to slip the sedative into her cup. They had drained her bone marrow stem cells dry, and Carley Hendrix had stood at the top of Manhattan high society, smiling as she claimed Elena's biomedical research as her own. Elena had spent years as a military doctor, serving in field hospitals and combat zones, and she had never once imagined her own family would be the ones to drug her and carve her up on an operating table. And in the end, it wasn't the surgery that killed her—it was the infection that crept into the wound afterward. They had cut her open on a filthy table with tools that weren't sterile, and when the fever came, no one came to save her. She had died alone, rotting from the inside out. Elena pushed herself up into a sitting position. She rubbed her chin with her index finger, feeling the rough calluses along her thumb web-marks left from years of gripping microsurgical needles as the hidden founder of Verdan Biopharma. Her heart beat steady and strong against her ribs. She looked around the dark cellar. Pale moonlight filtered through a small iron-barred vent near the ceiling, casting long shadows over dusty wine racks. She knew this exact night. She was twenty years old. Three days ago, Carley had thrown herself into the estate fountain and blamed Elena for pushing her out of jealousy, prompting Alonza to lock Elena down here. For three days, they had given her nothing but one hard piece of bread and half a cup of water a day. She was actually back at twenty. Heavy leather shoes clicked against the stone steps outside the iron door. A ring of brass keys jingled sharply. The heavy carved oak door swung open with a loud creak. Evans, the estate butler, stepped inside holding a brass lantern. He stopped at the top of the short stairs, looking down at her with open disgust while pressing a white handkerchief over his nose and mouth. "Miss Elena," Evans said, his voice dripping with smug condescension. "Mr. Hendrix told me to inform you that your three days of reflection are up. I suggest you act smart tonight." Elena leaned her shoulder against the rough stone wall and lifted her eyelids. Her dark brown eyes were completely still in the dim light. Evans frowned, shifting his weight uncomfortably under her unblinking stare. He sharpened his tone. "Miss Carley's fever just broke after the shock you gave her. The Master and Madam are waiting in the main hall for you to kneel and apologize." A faint, mocking smile touched the corner of Elena's dry lips. Her throat was raspy from three days without water, yet her voice cut through the damp air. "Apologize to her? For her terrible diving form, or for making sure she landed in the shallow end of the fountain?" Evans's face twisted. He slammed his metal tray against the edge of an oak barrel. "Watch your mouth! You are nothing but an orphan charity case. Staying under the Hendrix roof is a blessing you don't deserve!" Elena pushed off the wall and stood up straight. Even after three days in the freezing dark, her tall, slender frame moved with the lethal grace of a predator. She brushed the gray dust off her faded jeans. "Skill issue," Elena said flatly. "Using a cheap trick like that to frame someone is pathetic, and you people eat it right up." Evans turned purple, pointing a shaking finger at her nose. "Unrepentant brat! Three days in the dark clearly didn't teach you your place!" Elena didn't spare him another glance. She walked up the wooden steps with steady, heavy strides. Her cold presence forced the old butler to take a stumbling step back against the doorframe. Pausing at the threshold, Elena turned her head and looked at Evans as if he were already a corpse. "Lead the way," Elena said. "I want to see what kind of circus they set up for me in the main hall." Evans swallowed hard, a cold chill running down his spine. He clenched his jaw and hurried ahead down the narrow underground passage. Their footsteps echoed off the stone tiles as they climbed the spiral staircase to the first floor. Warm air hit Elena's face, carrying the heavy scent of Alonza's Cuban cigars and expensive white lilies. Elena felt her pocket—there was nothing in it but a small case of needles, the ones she had used to secretly teach herself acupuncture when she was twenty. Ahead of them, soft sobbing and gentle, comforting murmurs drifted through the cracked walnut double doors of the main hall. Evans straightened his vest and knocked lightly. "Sir, Madam, I have brought Miss Elena." The murmuring inside stopped dead. A crystal glass hit a wooden tabletop with a sharp crack. Two maids pulled the heavy doors open, and blinding light from the massive Swarovski chandelier spilled out as Elena stepped across the threshold and swept her icy gaze over the Hendrix family sitting on the leather sofas.

Stepping off the threshold onto the polished marble floor of the main hall, Elena stood directly beneath the glaring chandelier. The bright light did nothing to warm the frost in her dark eyes. On the central Italian leather sofa sat Alonza, CEO of Hendrix Industries. Dressed in a bespoke dark gray cashmere suit, the gold family signet ring on his right pinky gleamed coldly. Beside him, eighteen-year-old Carley—the biological daughter brought home three years ago—was wrapped in a cream cashmere shawl, her wavy chestnut hair spilled over her shoulders as she trembled in the arms of her mother, Eula. By the marble fireplace stood the eldest son, Preston Hendrix, his arms crossed over his chest as he glared at Elena with pure hatred. Eula stroked Carley's back and spoke first, her voice trembling with shrill accusation. "Elena, how could your heart be so rotten? You know Carley has been weak since childhood, yet you pushed her into freezing water!" Carley sniffled, biting her lower lip as big tears rolled past the light brown beauty mark under her right eye. "Mommy, please don't blame Elena. I must have slipped on the wet stone. I'm sure my sister didn't mean to watch me choke on the water..." Listening to the exact same act from her past life, Elena slid both hands into the pockets of her faded jeans and let out a short, quiet laugh. Alonza slammed his palm down on the rosewood coffee table. The bone china coffee cups rattled violently against their saucers. "You ungrateful wretch!" Alonza roared, the deep vertical creases between his eyebrows twisting into a knot. "What is that look on your face? Three days in the cellar and you haven't learned a shred of respect!" Elena looked straight into the eyes of the man she had once tried so desperately to please. "She climbed over the railing and jumped in by herself. The estate security system records twenty-four-seven. Do you need me to pull the cloud backup for you?" Carley's fingers dug tightly into Eula's silk blouse, her breath catching in her throat for a split second. Preston immediately stepped away from the fireplace and barked, "Stop lying! The camera covering the fountain was down for maintenance that afternoon. You checked the blind spots before you attacked her!" Elena shifted her cold gaze to Preston. "If there is no footage, what makes you so sure I pushed her? Because she cries on cue, or because the rest of you are completely blind?" Eula gasped loudly and pressed a hand to her chest. "Alonza, listen to her! How dare an orphan speak to her mother and brother like that!" Alonza's chest heaved, his face flushing dark red. He pointed a trembling finger at the floor in front of the sofa. "Get on your knees! Kneel and apologize to Carley right now!" The maids standing near the walls ducked their heads, holding their breath. Elena didn't bend her knees. Instead, she took half a step forward, her back straight. "I don't confess to things I didn't do, and I certainly don't kneel to cheap liars." Carley sobbed harder, burying her face in Eula's shoulder. "Daddy, please stop! It's all my fault for coming back to this house. If my sister hates me this much, I'll give up my spot at St. Matthew's Preparatory Academy for her..." That soft plea lit the fuse on Alonza's temper. He stood up from the sofa, looking down his nose at Elena. "Remember what you are, Elena!" Alonza snapped. "Without Hendrix money, you would still be eating moldy bread in a state orphanage!" "Charity?" Elena curled her lip. "Over the past three years, the raw clinical data I fed your R&D department from the Verdan Biopharma trials made your company ten times what you spent on my tuition." Alonza stiffened before sneering. "Arrogant little fool! Without the Hendrix name, your little lab notes are worthless!" "Stop wasting breath on her, Daddy," Preston said coldly. "She only acts this tough because she thinks we won't actually throw her out on the street." Alonza reached inside his suit jacket, pulled out a legal folder, and threw it onto the coffee table. "Since you bite the hand that feeds you, I have already instructed the family lawyer to freeze your college trust fund!" Elena looked at the document revoking her beneficiary rights. Her chest felt lighter than it had in years. Carley peeked out from beneath her shawl, waiting to see Elena beg, only to meet a pair of pitch-black eyes that made her shiver. "Anything else?" Elena asked calmly. "Why not strip me of the Hendrix name and terminate the adoption papers while you're at it?" A sharp cramp twisted Alonza's stomach. He pressed a hand against his vest, his face contorting as he marched around the coffee table and stopped less than three feet from Elena. "You think I won't?" Alonza hissed, raising his chin. "Strip away my family name, and by tomorrow morning you'll be begging for scraps in a Manhattan alley!" Elena tilted her head up, looking right into his bloodshot eyes. "Try me. Let's see who ends up begging whom."

Pushed past his limit by Elena's defiance, Alonza raised his heavy right hand and swung it hard toward her left cheek. Elena's eyes turned to ice. A fraction of a second before his palm touched her skin, she leaned back half an inch and snapped her right hand up, clamping her fingers around Alonza's wrist. A sharp, numbing pain shot straight up Alonza's arm as Elena's thumb dug precisely into his radial nerve. His hand hung frozen in midair, completely unable to move down another inch. "Touching me comes with a price, Mr. Hendrix," Elena said, her voice dropping to a low, lethal whisper. Cold sweat broke out across Alonza's forehead. He tried to yank his arm back, shocked by the iron grip of the slender girl in front of him. "Let go of me! Have you lost your mind?" Eula screamed and jumped up from the sofa. "Elena! Are you trying to hit your own father? You lunatic!" Elena shoved his arm forward and let go. Alonza stumbled backward three steps, his lower back slamming hard into the heavy leather armrest of the sofa before he caught his balance. Preston's face darkened with rage. He lunged forward from the fireplace. "You dare lay a finger on Daddy under our roof? You're asking for a beating!" He reached out with both large hands to grab Elena by the collar and slam her to the floor. Elena sidestepped his clumsy lunge with effortless speed. As Preston's momentum carried him past her, she hooked her right foot behind his supporting ankle and kicked sharply. Preston lost his balance instantly. He pitched forward, both knees crashing down onto the hard marble floor with a sickening thud. He groaned, clutching his twisted ankle. Carley clapped both hands over her mouth and shrank back into the corner of the sofa, her fake tears forgotten as she stared at Preston on the floor. Without looking down at Preston, Elena turned around and walked calmly toward the front foyer. Footsteps pounded down the grand staircase. Chase Hendrix, the twenty-two-year-old second son known for his violent temper, vaulted over the bottom railing and sprinted in front of the double front doors, blocking her exit. Chase slammed his palm against the brass door handle and glared down at Elena. "You think you can hurt my family and just walk out? Kneel and beg Carley for forgiveness right now, or you're not taking a single step out of this house!" Elena stopped five feet away, looking up at Chase without a trace of fear. Behind her, Alonza rubbed his throbbing wrist, his face purple with humiliation. "Lock the doors! Call the estate guards to drag her back to the cellar until she learns how to behave!" "Yes!" Eula shrieked, clutching her chest. "Call Dr. Miller to bring a tranquilizer syringe! She has gone completely insane!" Peeking from behind her mother's arm, Carley let a tiny, vicious smile curl the corner of her mouth. Elena turned her head slightly, taking in the gilded walls of the mansion where she had lived like a servant for three years. In her last life, she had given up a full scholarship to Johns Hopkins Medical School just to keep peace in this house, only to end up butchered on their operating table. She raised her right hand slightly. Between her middle and index fingers glinted a hair-thin, three-inch titanium acupuncture needle pulled from her coat lining. Seeing her stand still, Chase sneered and cracked his knuckles. "Scared now? Too late! Get over there and kowtow to Carley!" Elena's lips curved into a cold smile. "Scared? I was just wondering if a pack of parasites like you is worth getting my hands dirty." Blood rushed to Chase's head. He pulled his right fist back and threw a heavy punch straight at Elena's nose. "Die, you ungrateful bitch!" Elena didn't retreat. She ducked under the swinging arm, her left hand slapping his wrist aside while her right hand drove the fine needle deep into the acupoint at his right elbow. Chase felt a jolt like high-voltage electricity shoot through his arm. His entire right side went instantly numb, his heavy fist dropping limp in midair. Before he could scream, Elena pivoted into his chest, grabbed his belt and shoulder, and threw all one hundred and eighty pounds of him over her hip. Chase flew through the air and crashed down onto the solid oak shoe bench in the foyer. The heavy wood splintered into pieces under his weight. Chase howled in agony, rolling among the broken wood shards while clutching his deadened right arm. Dead silence fell over the main hall. Even the maids stopped breathing. Elena stepped over a piece of broken oak, reached out, and unlatched the heavy deadbolt on the front door. Freezing night wind and rain blew straight into the hall.