Chapter 1

"Evelyn, try to make something of yourself out there." The correctional officer's voice was flat as he swung the heavy gate open.

Evelyn Carter barely nodded. Three agonizing years. She'd survived when she wasn't sure she wanted to.

Cold rain needled her skin as she stepped beyond the prison walls. The wind sliced through her thin clothes, and she wrapped her arms around herself, trembling.

Then tires hissed against wet pavement.

A black Porsche 911 glided to a stop beside her.

Her stomach dropped when she recognized the license plate.

The tinted window lowered, revealing Ethan Caldwell's sharp, unreadable expression—the man she'd loved since she was sixteen, her former fiancé.

The same man who'd orchestrated her imprisonment.

"Why are you favoring your left leg?" His voice was like winter.

Evelyn's throat tightened. Did he really not know? From her first night in prison, the other inmates had targeted her. Whispers said Ethan had paid them to break her.

"Get in." He didn’t raise his voice, but the command was absolute. His tailored suit accentuated his broad shoulders, his presence radiating icy authority.

That tone—it reminded her of her parents.

At fourteen, Evelyn had been brought back to the Hayes family. For a brief moment, they’d seemed remorseful, eager to reconnect. But Vanessa, the daughter they’d raised in her absence, had poisoned them against her. Slowly, surely, they’d pushed Evelyn away.

By twenty-one, Vanessa had fabricated a story so vile that even Evelyn’s own parents believed she’d tried to kill her.

"Vanessa may not be our blood, but she’s our daughter in every way that matters. We gave you a home, a life. What more do you want?"

"Evelyn, how could you? Vanessa is refined. You’re nothing like her."

No one had listened. No one had cared.

Not even Ethan.

His gaze remained fixed on her. When she didn’t move, his patience snapped. "I won’t ask again."

His eyes flicked to the jagged scar circling her ankle—a wound from a smuggled razor. A souvenir from hell.

He looked away. "Nathan."

His assistant, Nathan Reeves, stepped out and approached her. "Ms. Carter, Mr. Caldwell expects you in the car."

When she still hesitated, Nathan reached for her arm.

Evelyn flinched violently, dropping into a defensive crouch, arms shielding her head. "Please—don’t—"

Nathan froze. The woman before him was a ghost of the vibrant girl he remembered. Her once-luminous eyes were hollow, her spirit crushed.

Three years had erased her.

He glanced back at Ethan, but his employer’s expression didn’t waver.

"Evelyn," Ethan said coolly, "prison clearly didn’t teach you obedience."

She forced herself up and slid into the car, pressing herself against the far door.

Warm air blasted from the vents, but she couldn’t stop shaking. Her head throbbed, and despite clamping her jaw, a sneeze escaped.

The car jerked over a pothole, sending her sprawling onto the floor.

Ethan’s eyes snapped open at the thud.

He looked down at her, lips curling. "Pathetic."

The leather seat burned beneath her knees. She scrambled back, murmuring, "I’ll—I’ll clean it."

"Don’t bother." His voice was sharp. "It’s trash now."

A bitter realization twisted inside her. Because I touched it. Her hands balled into fists.

To him, she was contamination.

"Only Vanessa is pure enough for you, isn’t she?"

Ethan’s expression darkened. "You lost the right to speak her name." He leaned closer, voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "Cross her again, and prison will seem merciful."