Chapter 3

The shatter of the glass exploded in the cramped living room, sending razor-thin shards flying across the floor to spray against my feet.

Serena shrieked in terror, dropping to the floor to cover her ears as her entire body trembled like a leaf in a gale.

On this exact day in my past life, these loan sharks had kicked the door down in the exact same manner.

Back then, the moment Scarface took a step toward Serena, my reflexes had kicked in. I sprinted into the kitchen, grabbed an empty glass beer bottle, smashed it against the counter, and wielded the jagged glass to shield her with my life.

I took several vicious blows from their baseball bats, bleeding profusely from a broken forehead, yet I led Serena through the gang in a desperate scramble, running to the police station several streets away.

Yet afterward, standing in the cold hallway of the precinct, Serena didn’t have a single word of gratitude for me. Instead, she offered only disdain and disapproval as she looked down at my blood-soaked clothes.

“Hazel, you acted too rashly. They just wanted money. We could have sat them down and talked things out like reasonable adults.

“Why did you have to antagonize them with a broken bottle? You made such an ugly scene—there wasn't a shred of dignity in what you did.”

Her words had pierced my chest like a poisoned dagger.

I had put my life on the line to protect her, only to be called undignified.

This time round, I would never do such a thankless, foolish thing again.

I quietly took a few steps back, slipping my hand into my pocket, subtly angling my phone camera toward the center of the living room.

Seeing me back away, Scarface assumed I was terrified. Letting out a contemptuous sneer, he hoisted his steel pipe and strolled toward Serena, who was still cowering on the floor.

“Come on, little one. Your old man is dead, his company bankrupt, but you still owe us money.

“If you don’t produce the cash today, I’m taking you with me to settle the balance.” Scarface tapped the steel pipe against the wall, producing bone-chilling clanks.

Serena had nowhere left to run. She turned her head toward me, her eyes overflowing with desperate pleas for help.

She must be expecting me to charge out and stand in front of her, just as I had done countless times before.

Instead, I simply stared back with icy detachment, not budging an inch.

Seeing that I had no intention of stepping in, Serena forced herself to stand up on trembling legs.

“Sir,” her voice quivered slightly, but she quickly resumed her usual high-and-mighty, saintly posture. “Violence solves nothing.

“Though my dad went bankrupt, we are currently finding ways to raise the money. It’s illegal to break into a private residence and destroy property.”

Scarface froze. The heavily tattooed thugs behind him exchanged bewildered glances, as if they had just heard the funniest joke in the world.

At their silence, Serena foolishly assumed her attempt at “reasoning” was working, and her courage surged.

She pointed toward the only two intact plastic chairs in the corner, her expression dripping with sanctimonious pity. “We’re all just trying to survive. Why must you push things to such bitter extremes?

“Why don’t you all take a seat? I’ll pour everyone a nice cup of tea. Let’s sit down and talk this through, all right?”

Two seconds of dead silence passed before the small rental unit exploded into deafening, hysterical laughter.

“Hahaha! Something wrong with this chick’s head? A cup of tea? Sit down and talk it through?” A thug laughed so hard tears streamed down his face.

The smirk on Scarface’s face vanished in a flash, replaced by a dark, sinister malice.

He lunged forward before Serena could even register what was happening, swung his hand back and made a brutal landing on her cheek.

The force of the strike was so immense that Serena was knocked completely off her feet, crashing to the floor.

“Talk things through with me? I want money! Who the hell wants your worthless tea?”

Scarface stepped forward with a sadistic grin, reaching down to grab a fistful of Serena’s long hair and yanking her straight up off the ground.

Serena shrieked in pain, her hands clawing wildly at his forearm.

“No money, huh? Fine by me!” Scarface scanned Serena’s porcelain face, his eyes flashing with sickening, nauseating lust.

“You’ve got some good looks. Since you can’t pay up, I’ll drag you to the nightclub to work the tables tonight. A few years of selling you out might just get back my interest.”

“No! Let go of me! Help!” Serena shrieked hysterically, her tears mixing with the blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.

In pure terror, she turned toward the corner where I stood. “Hazel! Help me! Don’t you still have three thousand in your pocket? Give it to them! Give it to them now!”