The Billionaire's Debt.

The Fourth People's Hospital wasn't a place of healing; it was a graveyard for the living. Hidden on the desolate outskirts of New York, its reinforced concrete walls weren't meant to keep the world out-they were built to keep the "disgraceful" secrets of the elite locked in.

In the upper circles of New York high society, being sent here was a fate worse than death. It was a life sentence. Unless your family claimed you, you left in a body bag.

Chloe Bishop had survived this hell for five years.

For 1,825 days, she had been the "Model Patient." she never screamed when they strapped her down. She never fought when the needles pierced her skin. She swallowed every pill with a vacant, obedient smile, hiding the sharp, cold fire burning in her soul.

Today, that fire was ready to become a wildfire. The doctors had finally signed her release. Chloe Bishop was "cured."

The Gates of Hell Swing Open

The winter sun was a pale, mocking gold as it hit Chloe's shoulders. She stood before the massive iron gates, her frame looking dangerously fragile.

Clang... Clang...

The shriek of metal against stone sounded like a victory cry.

As the gates groaned open, Chloe stepped out. She wore tattered canvas shoes and jeans so faded they were almost white. Her only luxury was the intricate, blood-red embroidery she had stitched by hand down her leg-a silent testament to the skill the world thought she'd lost.

The freezing north wind whipped her hair across her face, but it couldn't hide her eyes. They weren't the eyes of a broken woman. They were eyes of ice and starlight-sharp, elegant, and terrifyingly calm.

A Debt of Blood and Jade

Ten meters away, a white sedan idled impatiently. The driver leaned on the horn, the sound cutting through the silence of the woods.

Chloe didn't run; she glided. She reached the car and threw her arms around the man waiting there. "Jake. I'm finally out."

Jake Tully, a high-powered lawyer with a tongue like a razor, recoiled, grabbing her collar to shove her back. "Watch the suit, Chloe! And drop that 'survivor' tone. You sound like a ghost, and it's giving me the creeps."

Chloe didn't take offense. Instead, she offered a mocking, graceful bow-the kind she used to give at debutante balls. "Forgive me, Counselor. Thank you for rescuing this poor, 'crazy' girl. I'll repay your kindness in the next life."

"Hmph. At least the lunatics didn't eat your brain," Jake grumbled, though his eyes softened for a fraction of a second. "Get in. We're on a schedule."

As soon as the door clicked shut, Jake tossed a heavy manila folder into her lap.

"New phone, wallet, passport, and ID. I've scrubbed your record as much as I could," he said, pulling the car onto the highway.

Chloe didn't look at the IDs. She didn't care about her name. Her fingers tore through the envelope, searching for the only thing that mattered. "The jade pendant? Did you get it?"

"Glove box," Jake muttered.

Chloe snapped the compartment open and pulled out a small silk box. Inside lay a simple, circular jade ring. To a stranger, it looked like a cheap trinket. To Chloe, it was the key to a kingdom.

She squeezed the jade until the edges bit into her palm, her knuckles turning white. The fragility was gone. In its place was a woman who had crawled out of hell to collect a debt.

"Jake," she said, her voice dropping an octave, turning into something cold and lethal. "Drive. Take me to the Stark Group."

The hunt had officially begun.