I sold my late mother's only estate and starved myself working three grueling jobs just to pay off my fiancé's massive gambling debts to the Syndicate. But when our car was stuck at a scorching, hundred-degree highway checkpoint, Julian gave the last bottle of cold water to his delicate mistress, Chloe. When I gasped for air and begged him to turn up the AC because of my severe asthma, he simply pulled the keys from the ignition and locked the doors from the outside. "Chloe can't stand the heat," he said coldly through the glass. "You can stay in there and reflect on your attitude." I pounded frantically on the window as the suffocating heat instantly triggered my asthma. "Julian... open the door... I can't breathe..." Outside, Chloe took a slow sip of the cold water, pointing at my struggling figure with a sweet, mocking giggle. "Look at her, Julian. She's still faking it." Julian rolled his eyes, his face twisting with deep annoyance. "Stop acting! You're just throwing a tantrum because I let her sit in the front seat. I've spoiled you too much." To show off his ruthless authority to the low-level cronies around him, he grabbed a sunshade and completely sealed off the windshield. "Let her roast in there until she cures that pathetic habit of faking illness for attention," he sneered, wrapping his arm around Chloe's waist and walking away toward the shaded rest area. The 160-degree cabin quickly turned into my blazing coffin. My vision blurred as my throat closed completely. Just a few feet away in the cool shade, Julian was laughing with Chloe, casually telling his cronies that he would unlock the door once I cried and begged for his mercy. He had no idea that the woman he left to "roast" was already a stiff, purple corpse. Chapter 1 Mia POV Half an hour later, my fiancé finally strolled back, talking and laughing with his mistress clinging to his arm. "Look at her, Julian. She is even rolling her eyes now." Chloe giggled, her perfectly manicured fingers wrapped tightly around a can of ice-cold cola. She pointed her acrylic nail at the locked car window, completely unbothered by the blistering heat outside. Julian followed her gaze. He let out a heavy sigh, rolling his eyes in profound annoyance. "I have spoiled her too much. She is full of disgusting habits." I hovered six feet above the boiling asphalt of the Syndicate highway checkpoint, staring coldly down at them. In the backseat of the locked Mercedes, the limp body slumped against the leather interior was mine. My face had swollen into a terrifying, purplish-red hue. My eyes were rolled completely back into my skull, and my stiff neck was jammed tightly against the glass. A burly truck driver hauling a large cooler of ice water passed by them. He stopped in his tracks, his heavy work boots scraping against the ground, and narrowed his eyes at the darkly tinted window. "Hey, man," the driver shouted, pointing at my face. "That lady does not look right. Her lips are turning purple! You need to open that door right now!" Julian's face darkened instantly. He strode over and violently shoved the man backward. "Mind your own business! My fiancée is just throwing a tantrum." The truck driver stumbled, nearly dropping his heavy cooler. "A tantrum turns a person's face purple? It is over a hundred degrees out here. That heat will kill someone!" "She will not die!" Julian barked, glaring fiercely at the growing crowd of low-level Syndicate associates. "She loves playing these sick mind games to challenge my authority. Today, I am teaching her a lesson in respect!" Chloe stepped forward, putting on a sweet, fake smile. "Do not worry, gentlemen," Chloe told the crowd. "Julian's fiancée is just a jealous drama queen. She is deliberately holding her breath to scare us because she did not get to sit in the front seat." The bystanders murmured among themselves. In the ruthless mafia world, women were often viewed as dramatic liabilities. They bought Chloe's lie instantly. Their initial concern quickly shifted to disgust toward the "spoiled woman" inside. Drunk on this validation and his own display of fake authority, Julian walked to the trunk. He pulled out a thick, silver sunshade and slapped it aggressively against the windshield. Then, he grabbed discarded cardboard and dirty rags from the side of the road, jamming them tightly into every gap of the side windows. He completely sealed off all light and visibility into the boiling cabin. "Let us see how long you can keep this up," Julian sneered, glancing at his expensive Rolex. "It has only been thirty minutes. She can fake an asthma attack on the living room floor for half a day." Chloe clung to his arm. "Julian, you are being too hard on her. What if something actually happens to her?" She spoke words of concern, but there was not a single trace of worry on her face. "What could possibly happen?" Julian scoffed. "She just takes advantage of my good temper, always using that pathetic asthma as an excuse. If I do not cure her of this habit today, she will be walking all over me after we get married!" I had suffered from severe asthma since I was a child. To fund his startup business, I had worked three grueling jobs. When an attack hit, I could not bear to buy the expensive medicine, opting only for the cheapest pills. And now, he firmly believed I was just faking an illness to fight for his attention. "Let's go sit in the shade." Julian wrapped his arm around Chloe's shoulder, leading her toward the rest area. "Ignore her. When she cannot take it anymore, she will naturally knock on the glass and beg for mercy." He did not look back. I looked down at the car. The temperature inside the cabin was still climbing. My corpse lay in the backseat, the skin baking red under the relentless heat.

Mia POV The black Mercedes SUV's metal body radiated rolling waves of heat, distorting the surrounding air into shimmering ripples. Inside the airtight cabin, the breakdown of my body was accelerating. Dark cyanotic patches covered my skin—a horrifying picture of complete circulatory failure. My ten fingers were stiffly curled into claws, the tragic evidence of my desperate attempts to claw at the locked doors. Outside, due to the massive traffic jam at the checkpoint, more stranded travelers noticed the abnormally sealed vehicle. "Is someone in there? In this heat, they will be roasted alive," an older mob wife whispered, fanning herself with a designer magazine. Noticing the commotion, Chloe immediately dragged Julian out of the shade. Her eyes turned red in a split second as she accurately targeted the sympathetic older women in the crowd. "Ladies, please do not mind her," Chloe sighed, feigning heavy exhaustion. "Julian's fiancée is a lazy parasite. She does nothing but drain his accounts. Today, she locked herself in and is faking an illness to threaten him." Julian swaggered over and delivered a hard kick to the front tire of the Mercedes. "I bleed and sweat for this Family every single day to manage my territory, and she does nothing but cause trouble!" Julian raised his voice, ensuring everyone heard his fake bragging. "She constantly uses her asthma to scare me, forcing me to buy her twenty-thousand-dollar custom bags. I am absolutely not falling for her manipulative tricks this time!" The sheer audacity of his words sent a cold, vibrating shock through my soul. I had sold the only legitimate estate my late mother left me just to provide the startup capital for his pathetic money-laundering business. I had worked three grueling jobs, chewing on cold bread and cheap pickles, just to pay off his massive gambling debts to the mob bosses. He owned absolutely nothing. Every single dime he used to project this fake mafia boss image was paid for by my blood and sweat. And now, he was standing in front of strangers, slandering me as a gold digger. The bystanders nodded in sympathy, completely deceived by his confident performance. "Come out and apologize to your man!" an old associate yelled, tapping disapprovingly on the hot glass. There was no response. Because I was already dead. Just then, a checkpoint janitor pushing a supply cart stopped at the edge of the crowd. She looked at the baking car, then at a sweating Julian. She stopped and pulled an unopened bottle of mineral water from the net at the bottom of her cart. "Young man, arguments aside, the weather is just too hot," she said, handing the water to Julian. "You need to crack the window open and pass this water in to her. If she suffocates in there, it will be too late for regrets." Julian froze for a second. But Chloe violently snatched the bottle from the janitor's trembling hand. She unscrewed the plastic cap and poured every single drop onto the boiling asphalt. The water hissed loudly, evaporating almost instantly. "Do not worry about her," Chloe smiled maliciously, shaking the empty plastic bottle. "The AC is blasting on maximum cold in there. She does not need your unnecessary pity." The janitor stared at the empty bottle in disbelief, absolutely shocked: "You are going to kill her!" Julian did not stop her. Instead, he pulled Chloe close and kissed her cheek. "Chloe is right. Not a single drop for her." He glared fiercely at the sealed car, his expression turning cold. "Unless she gets on her knees and begs, I am keeping her locked in that oven until nightfall!" I stared blankly at the evaporated water stain on the ground. If I had been able to drink even one sip of that water, I would not have died in such immense agony.

Mia POV Inside the airtight cage of the bulletproof vehicle, the physiological reactions of death were irreversibly taking place: my bowels had released. The relentless midday sun beat down on the metal roof like a hammer. Crack. Unable to withstand the uneven, oven-like pressure, a jagged line fractured across the tinted glass of the rear window. Instantly, a pungent stench was squeezed out through the tiny opening, mixed with the sickeningly sweet scent of roasting flesh. Julian, who was casually scrolling through his phone, caught a whiff of the smell. He pinched his nose and stumbled backward. "Fuck, what is that awful smell?" He rushed to the car and violently pounded his fist against the door frame. "Mia, are you out of your mind?! You deliberately soiled yourself just to force me to open the door?! Have you no shame?!" Beside him, Chloe dramatically gagged, fanning the air with her hand. "Oh my god! Everyone, smell this!" Chloe yelled to the lingering crowd of associates. "His fiancée actually soiled herself in the car just to fight for attention! This is the brand-new car Julian just bought!" The crowd erupted into callous, loud laughter and disgusted murmurs. "This woman is truly insane." "To go to such lengths just for an argument." I hovered in the air, watching them treat the horrific, involuntary physical signs of my agonizing death as an entertaining farce. A heavy jingling of keys approached from a short distance away. A checkpoint guard wearing a cheap uniform pushed his way through the gathering crowd. The guard was sweating profusely in the stifling heat, one hand resting cautiously on the walkie-talkie at his waist. "What is going on here, folks?" The guard frowned, wiping sweat from his forehead as he stared suspiciously at the greasy condensation forming on the inside of the car window. "We received a complaint about a disturbance. Everyone is saying the woman inside has not moved. You need to open that door." Julian's face paled for a second, but he quickly puffed out his chest, blocking the cracked window. He reached into the pocket of his tailored trousers, pulled out a crisp hundred-dollar bill, and discreetly folded it into his palm. "Just a little misunderstanding, officer." Julian slowly approached the guard, smoothly brushing his hand against the man's palm and seamlessly slipping the cash over. "My fiancée is having a severe mental breakdown and locked herself inside to throw a tantrum. We are just waiting for her medication to kick in so she can calm down. I do not want to rashly open the door and have her rush out and hurt innocent bystanders." I dove down from the scorching roof, waving my transparent hands frantically in front of the officer's face. Look closer! I am already dead! He is lying! But separated by the impenetrable veil of life and death, my desperate pleas were reduced to absolute silence. Chloe played her part perfectly, handing the sweating guard two bottles of ice water. "His fiancée has a violent temper when she wakes up. You really do not want to wake her and deal with her screaming." The guard glanced down at the hundred-dollar bill. Then, he sized up Julian's perfectly fitted custom suit, the gleaming luxury watch on his wrist, and the arrogant aura of a powerful man who seemed to rule the world. The guard gave a barely noticeable nod and swiftly slipped the money into his pocket. "Alright, keep the situation under control. Do not make a scene." Eager to escape the oppressive heat, the guard accepted the bribe and walked away into the dust. Julian let out a heavy sigh of relief. Then, he pulled out his phone, flashing a dark sneer at the cracked window. "This stubborn bitch can really hold out." He opened a private group chat filled with his family members and low-level Syndicate cronies and started a live stream. He tore away a small piece of cardboard, aiming the camera directly into the dark cabin. "Come look at this, boys!" Julian announced coldly to his audience. "Mia is so desperate to make me bow down that she actually took a shit in my car! Today, I am going to show everyone how a real man disciplines a disobedient woman!"