Chapter 1

Evelina Frost POV:

"Private estate. No soliciting or begging."

Two burly guards in custom black suits blocked my path before the five-meter wrought-iron gates of the Sterling mansion. A cold wind whipped my long hair across my face. I pulled my faded denim jacket tighter, my eyes icy.

I didn't get angry. I reached into my pocket, pulled out a smooth jade pendant, and held it up.

"I'm looking for Richard Sterling. Tell him Evelina Frost is here to annul the engagement."

The guards stared at the pendant, unconcealed contempt flashing in their eyes. One pressed his earpiece and reported my arrival, his tone dripping with mockery.

A few minutes later, the gates swung open. A middle-aged butler walked out, looking me up and down like a piece of trash.

"Follow me. Don't dirty the carpets."

I followed him across the manicured courtyard, my old canvas shoes clicking against the marble path.

He pushed open the mahogany double doors. Beneath the crystal chandelier, I spotted the man on the leather sofa—Richard Sterling, head of Sterling Group.

Richard held a thick cigar between his fingers. Without lifting his eyelids, he blew out a cloud of smoke.

I stopped three steps away. Just as I opened my mouth, he beat me to it.

"You're that wild girl from the mountains? Your face is passable, at least."

I narrowed my eyes, ignored the insult, and laid the yellowed betrothal contract on the glass coffee table.

Richard glanced at it with a mocking smirk. He crushed his cigar into the ashtray, pulled out a checkbook, and uncapped a gold pen.

"Your grandfather saved my father's life years ago, and this engagement was the old man's whim. Name your price. How much will it take for you to crawl back to your mountains?"

Looking at his smug face, a cold laugh rose in my chest. My voice remained flat.

"I didn't come here for money. I came to annul the engagement."

Richard's hand froze over the checkbook. He snapped his head up and glared at me as if he'd just heard the biggest joke in the world.

"Annul it? Do you have any idea how many socialites in Crown City are lining up to marry into the Sterling family?"

Just then, confident footsteps echoed from the spiral staircase. A young man in an expensive designer suit descended, hands tucked casually into his pockets.

"So this is the woman Grandpa picked for me? You've got to be kidding. She looks like a damn beggar."

His gaze swept over my faded jacket and scuffed shoes before he flopped onto the sofa, propping one leg over the other as if I were nothing more than an inconvenient servant.

"Listen, little beggar. I never intended to marry some nameless nobody from the middle of nowhere. I've got plenty of beautiful women dying to get into my bed. But you? You're so revolting I can't even stomach kissing you."

I shot Brandon a cold look, my gaze lingering for a second on his smug, pampered face.

"Since you think this marriage is a disgrace, that works out nicely. I find it filthy too."

Brandon's expression darkened. He shot to his feet, eyes narrowing with disbelief—apparently unused to women refusing to flatter him, let alone insulting him to his face.

"You bitch! Who gave you the nerve to talk to me like that?"

He stepped toward me, his finger nearly jabbing into my face.

Ignoring his tantrum, I picked up the betrothal contract and gripped the edges with both hands.

"What are you doing? Put that down!"

Richard's face darkened. Thinking I meant to use the contract as blackmail leverage, he shot to his feet, knocking over his coffee cup.

Watching his tense expression, a frigid smile curved my lips. I wrenched my hands apart. With a crisp rip, the old contract tore cleanly in half.

Dead silence fell over the living room. Both Richard and Brandon stared at me in disbelief.

I didn't stop. Stacking the halves together, I tore them again and again until the contract was reduced to tiny scraps.

Raising my hand, I flung the scraps straight into Richard's stunned face. The white pieces fluttered down all over his suit.

"The engagement is off. From today on, I, Evelina Frost, have nothing to do with the Sterling family."

I dusted off my hands, my tone cutting and cold.

Richard's face turned a deep, mottled purple, the veins on his forehead throbbing. He pointed a trembling finger at me.

"You... you have a death wish!"

Brandon's face twisted with fury. He grabbed the crystal ashtray and hurled it against the floor. The sharp crash echoed through the living room.

"Security! Break her legs! I want her kneeling on this floor, begging me for forgiveness before you throw her out!"

At his order, four burly bodyguards rushed in and surrounded me, cracking their knuckles as they closed in.

I stood my ground without even raising my guard. Lowering my gaze slightly, I calculated how many seconds it would take to cripple these four idiots without exposing my full martial arts training.

Right as the lead bodyguard's massive hand reached for my shoulder, the screech of tires echoed outside the estate gates.

The next second, with a deafening boom, the mahogany double doors were kicked open from the outside. The sheer force slammed the wooden panels against the walls.

Everyone froze, turning toward the entrance.

Framed against the cold light outside, a tall man in a bespoke black suit strode across the threshold. The click of his leather shoes echoed through the silent room.

His godlike face was terrifyingly cold, radiating a murderous aura as his sharp gaze swept over the guards surrounding me.

He parted his thin lips, his voice low and lethal.

"Let's see who dares touch a single hair on my sister's head today."