Creak—clang!
A string of dull, grating sounds tore through the silence as the iron gates, towering nearly a hundred feet high, slowly parted to either side.
A woman in a tattered blue-and-white striped uniform, hair wild and tangled, walked out from the entrance at a sluggish pace.
Adrian Rivers heard the noise and finally let the tension ease from his brow. He stubbed out his cigarette, turned his head, and when he saw the person in front of him, his brows furrowed again. He called out with a hint of uncertainty, “Sloane?”
Sloane Rivers brushed the hair away from her face, revealing pale features that, despite everything, couldn’t hide their natural beauty. But her eyes—once bright and full of life—had gone cold, dulled by years of indifference.
Her gaze lingered on Adrian for only a second before shifting away, as if he were nothing more than a stranger, irrelevant to her world.
“What’s wrong? After all these years, Adrian, you don’t recognize me anymore?” Sloane’s voice rose softly, tinged with mockery. “You were the one who sent me here, remember?”
Adrian froze for a moment. He didn’t seem used to this version of her. In his memories, she’d been rebellious, yes—but also full of fire and passion. The woman standing before him now felt like a porcupine, bristling with spikes, ready to lash out at any moment.
“Get in the car. Don’t embarrass yourself here,” Adrian snapped back quickly, still using that impatient tone, like he was trying to cover up a flicker of unease inside.
Sloane ignored his sharp words, opened the door, and climbed in.
At the same time, back inside the asylum, a scene unfolded that defied all logic. The so-called “bosses”—women who once ruled the halls with cruelty and violence, feared by everyone around them—were now clutching their heads and sobbing like children.
“The devil has finally gone! Thank goodness, it’s finally over!” They cried again and again.
The car bumped along the rugged road. Inside, the air was suffocating with tension.
Adrian let out a cold snort and was the first to speak. “After all these years, I hope you’ve learned your lesson. When we get back, you’d better behave—keep your head down, stop pissing off Mom and Dad, and don’t you dare reach for anything that doesn’t belong to you.”
Sloane’s lips curled ever so slightly, the smile bitter and mocking.
Things that don’t belong to me? So this is all about protecting Samantha.
“This time, we’ve arranged a good match for you. The man is the richest man in Stonebridge, worth billions. With your reputation and your current state, landing someone like him is the best luck you’ll ever get. Don’t be ungrateful. Just do as you’re told,” Adrian continued, his voice full of command.
Sloane turned her head slowly, her eyes sharp and cold as they locked onto Adrian’s. It was a stare that cut through him, slicing past the lies and peeling back the mask.
“If it’s such a great match,” she said hoarsely but clearly, every word pressed out through clenched teeth, “why doesn’t Samantha marry him?”
It was like she’d struck a nerve. Adrian’s face darkened instantly, his eyes flaring with rage.
“Samantha would never marry a…”
He caught himself mid-sentence. Quickly, he straightened his collar, cleared his throat, and forced himself back into his usual smug demeanor.
“Samantha has our parents—and me—making decisions for her. That’s none of your concern. You just focus on doing your duty.”
Sloane narrowed her eyes slightly. So there is something shady about this marriage.