Sarah Clifton’s POVI honestly didn’t think what I said would ever reach my father.When I stepped out of the bright red Bentley and saw the Japanese girl standing beside the others, I assumed she was just hired help—someone brought along to serve tea, translate, or stand quietly in the background. In our world, appearances often told a story, and I believed I already knew hers.So I spoke without thinking.Now, standing in the middle of the Wang estate courtyard, I realized how wrong I had been.The sound of my father’s voice still echoed in my ears from the phone call. I had never heard him that angry before. Not even when business deals collapsed or rivals betrayed him. The rage in his voice was something deeper—something personal.And it was aimed entirely at me.My hands were still trembling as I lowered the phone. My chest felt tight, my stomach twisted in knots, and the weight of what had just happened slowly began to settle over me.I had just lost my freedom.No money. No ind
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