Fiona Roland immediately recognized the well-dressed man before her—Howard Wennington, the real estate tycoon of Los Angeles!

She plastered on an obsequious smile, hunching her back as she scurried forward. "Mr. Wennington, we've brought her, just as promised. She's in the backseat. Would you like to take a look?"

Howard narrowed his eyes and nodded, strolling over to Jason Roland's car. Victor Roland eagerly yanked the door open, revealing Jenna Roland's unconscious form.

Jenna's skin was porcelain-pale, her slender legs barely visible beneath the hem of her dress. The sight of her delicate features and alluring figure made Howard's Adam's apple bob.

He reached out with thick fingers, grazing them along Jenna's thigh. The smooth texture made his breath hitch.

"Not bad. Exactly my taste." Howard withdrew his hand with satisfaction and snapped his fingers.

A black-suited bodyguard immediately handed over a bulging duffel bag.

Fiona snatched it, hastily unzipping it. When she saw the stacks of cash inside, her eyes crinkled into slits.

"Enjoy yourself, Mr. Wennington!" She bowed obsequiously before clutching the bag of money and scrambling into the car.

Victor hovered nervously. "Shouldn't we count it? What if it's short—"

"Are you stupid?" Fiona rolled her eyes. "A man like Mr. Wennington could drop crumbs from his fingers and we'd eat for half a year!"

She shook the bag triumphantly, the weight of it sending thrills through her.

Victor couldn't resist counting anyway. When he reached $1.3 million, he grabbed Fiona and planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek. "You're amazing, honey!"

"Let's go shopping!" Heidi Roland cheered, slapping the car seat excitedly.

Jason hit the gas, and the car sped toward the mall.

Jenna's head throbbed as she forced her eyes open. The unfamiliar ceiling jolted her awake.

The sound of running water from the bathroom turned her blood to ice.

She bolted upright, scanning the room—this wasn't a hospital!

Memories crashed over her. The suspicious drink at the restaurant. Victor's fake concern...

"Bastards!" She clenched the sheets, nails digging into her palms.

Her own family had sold her out.