“Oh, Elena, don’t look at me like that.” Lana pressed one hand to her chest like she was auditioning for a daytime soap. “I’m not trying to be the evil stepmother here.”
Elena didn’t blink. “Then stop warming up and get to the point.”
“Fine. The Steele family ran a compatibility check. Your profile is a perfect match for Atticus Steele.”
Elena slowly lifted her eyes.
Atticus Steele.
The dead heir of the Steele family.
At least, that was what everyone believed.
Lana’s smile grew wider, sweet and rotten at the edges. “I know marrying a man who’s already dead sounds... unusual. But think about it. You’d become the widow of the Steele heir. That’s not exactly a tragedy. Plenty of girls would kill for that last name.”
She leaned closer and lowered her voice.
“And the Steele family will invest five million dollars in our company.”
Elena stared at her.
“If being the dead heir’s widow is such a dream, why isn’t your precious Sophie picking out a black wedding dress?”
Lana’s smile twitched.
Elena tilted her head. “Also, since we’re talking about family arrangements, my mother made a marriage agreement for me before she died. With Ace Adams.”
The Adams family was old money in Rhavyn.
And Ace Adams was the man Sophie had been chasing for years.
Lana recovered fast and let out a sharp little laugh.
“Oh, sweetheart. This isn’t the 1800s. A verbal promise means nothing.” Her eyes dragged over Elena’s plain clothes and dusty backpack. “The Adams family is top-tier. Do you honestly think they’d accept some girl who grew up in the middle of nowhere?”
Sophie’s lips curled.
“Wait. You actually think Ace Adams would marry you?” Sophie gave a soft laugh. “Elena, please. That’s embarrassing. Ace wants me. We’re practically engaged.”
People loved calling Elena a country girl.
But even with those thick black glasses hiding half her face, there was nothing cheap about her.
Elena had grown up with nothing.
No stylists. No designer makeup. No two-hour beauty routine.
And still, she looked better bare-faced than Sophie did after a full glam session.
But so what?
Elena was about to marry a dead man.
That thought made Sophie feel much better.
Elena turned to the man standing by the window.
“Mr. Monroe, do you agree with this?”
Richie Monroe took a slow drag from his cigarette. “Elena, this is your chance to repay me for raising you.”
Raising her.
The words hit the rawest place in her chest.
Her mother had died giving birth to her.
Her loving father had dumped her with distant relatives in a no-name town, then come back to Rhavyn, married Lana, had Sophie, and started over like Elena had never existed.
For eighteen years, he had never cared if she was hungry or sick.
Now, for five million dollars, Richie suddenly remembered he had another daughter.
Only because he could sell her to a dead man.
Elena looked at him through her thick glasses. Her fingers tightened around the glass in her hand.
So that was all she was to him.
A price tag.
“Wow,” she said flatly. “Only a real dirtbag can say something that shameless without choking on it.”
Richie’s face turned red.
He pointed at her. “I can’t believe what you’ve become. Ungrateful. Rude. No manners at all. If it weren’t for this marriage with the Steele family, I would’ve already...”
He stopped.
But Elena heard the rest anyway.
She was done.
Done with their fake family talk.
Done with their greed.
“I’ll do it,” Elena cut in. “I’ll marry into the Steele family. You get your investment.”
Richie froze.
Lana’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
“But I have one condition.”
Richie narrowed his eyes. “What condition?”
Elena pulled a folded document from her backpack and tossed it onto the dining table.
“I want my ties with the Monroe family cut. Completely.”
Richie frowned.
Sophie laughed. “Oh no. What a terrifying threat. Are we supposed to cry?”
Lana jumped in smoothly. “Richie, if that’s what Elena wants, let her have it.”
Richie picked up the document and scanned it.
In his eyes, Elena had always been dead weight.
Sophie was the daughter they polished, showed off, and bragged about.
Compared to Sophie, Elena was worth nothing.
And now this “nothing” wanted to remove herself from the family?
Richie almost smiled.
“Fine,” he said.
Before Elena could change her mind, he grabbed a pen and signed.
Then he shoved the papers back to her.
“Let me make this clear,” Richie said. “Once this is signed, you are no longer part of this family. Don’t come crawling back for money. Don’t ask for help. Don’t expect a damn thing from us.”
Elena picked up the document and checked the signature.
Then she smiled.
“Relax,” she said. “Unlike you people, I still have standards.”
She turned and walked out of the Monroe estate.
The second she stepped outside, Elena took off her glasses.
The plain, harmless girl disappeared.
Her eyes were sharp now. Cold. Awake.
Her phone buzzed.
She answered without slowing down.
“Elena,” a young man, amusement clear in his voice. “Did you handle your useless father?”
“Of course.”
“He’s such a clown. Treats Sophie like a princess, sells you for cash, and has no idea you’re worth over a hundred million...”
Elena cut him off. “Not now. I’ve got a job. I’m heading to a cemetery outside town.”
The job was simple.
Meet the contact.
Pick up an item.
Deliver it to the assigned location.
But the payment was top-tier.
Which meant the item was either illegal, priceless, or both.
Maybe tonight wouldn’t be boring after all.
Moonlight washed over the cemetery.
Everything was quiet except for the wind dragging through the trees.
Elena stood behind a thick oak, a black backpack over one shoulder. Old headstones leaned between patches of tall grass. Weeds brushed against her boots.
She checked the time.
“Of course,” she muttered. “Expecting criminals to be punctual was my first mistake.”
Then she heard footsteps ahead.