Chapter 3
"Giving it to him? I'd rather give it to a dog." Lucia cut her best friend off coldly. "Who in our circle doesn't know what Richard is? He's constantly showing up at hotels with different women — today some small-time influencer, tomorrow a fresh-faced model. If I marry into that family, I'm nothing but a tool for their merger, something pretty to put on a shelf."
The line went quiet for a few seconds. Jessica let out a sigh, her tone softening. "But this is crazy, Lucia. Even if you want to get back at them, you don't have to throw yourself into the fire... How much did this guy even pay you? You're the CEO of Starship Group, worth hundreds of millions. You can't seriously be doing this over a few thousand dollars."
"A billion," Lucia said quietly.
"I'm sorry — how much?!" Jessica wondered if she'd heard wrong.
"One billion. Cash. Already sitting in my private account." Lucia pressed her fingers to her throbbing temple, her voice edged with exhaustion. "Got the text notification just now. A whole string of zeros. I counted them several times."
"Lucia, did you drink something bad last night?" Jessica wasn't buying it for a second, letting out a short laugh. "A billion in cash? What do you think this is, Monopoly money? In all of New York, the only people who could drop a billion on a woman without blinking are a handful of guys with one foot in the grave. Don't tell me you got scammed by some photoshopped bank screenshot."
Lucia looked at the black-and-gold card sitting on the coffee table, a wry smile on her face.
Ten minutes ago, she'd thought the exact same thing. It wasn't until she logged into her online banking herself and stared at those blinding numbers in the sunlight that she had no choice but to accept this absurd reality.
"The money is real. It's already locked into my account." Lucia walked to the floor-to-ceiling window and looked down at the tiny streams of traffic below. "Jessica, I don't have a choice. My parents aren't pushing me to marry Richard for my happiness. They're doing it for Starship."
"Is the company in trouble again?" Jessica's voice sharpened.
"The new product is at the most critical stage of development, and the funding has dried up. If the money doesn't come through next month, the billions we've already poured into R&D go down the drain, and Starship goes bankrupt." Lucia's smile turned even more bitter. "Richard promised that the moment I say yes, the Miller family will inject five hundred million after the wedding. In my parents' eyes, their daughter is worth exactly that much."
Jessica felt a chill run through her. The full weight of the situation was finally sinking in.
A mysterious man who could casually throw out a billion in cash was far more frightening than the Miller family could ever be.
"Lucia, listen to me — something's off about this." Jessica's tone went completely serious. "In New York, you can count on one hand the people who could move a billion dollars without anyone noticing. Who is this man? Is he coming after you specifically, or is he after Starship? There's no such thing as a free lunch. If he's willing to drop a billion, he's not doing it just for one night."
Lucia's heart tightened.
The image flashed through her mind again — the man's body covered in scars, and those deep, piercing eyes that seemed to see straight through everything.
"I don't know. He left without a word. Didn't even leave a number." Lucia stared down at her feet.
"No, something about this feels like a trap." There was rustling on Jessica's end, like she was getting dressed. "You're heading to the office now, right? Stay there. I'm on my way. We need to talk in person."
After hanging up, Lucia looked at her pale reflection in the mirror and took a slow, deep breath.
Whoever that man was, the billion had bought Starship some breathing room. That much was real.
America's most feared mercenary. The one they called the Grim Reaper. Michael.
He was standing outside Starship Group's tower in the heart of New York's CBD.
He'd changed into a slightly baggy casual outfit that covered the shocking network of scars across his body. An unlit cigarette dangled from his lips, and he held a worn, yellowed slip of paper in his hand.
Scrawled on it in messy handwriting was an address and a name: Lucia Bianchi.
"Grandpa's really losing it in his old age, sending me on a job like this." Michael rolled his eyes and muttered to himself.
He'd just come back from overseas, fresh out of combat, and all he'd wanted was a few days of easy living. Instead, his grandfather had handed down an ironclad order and shipped him off to New York to be a personal bodyguard for some female CEO.
For three full years.
It was the longest, most pointless, and most baffling assignment of his entire life.
"Lucia... I just hope she's not some stone-faced nightmare to look at. Having to stare at that every day would take years off my life." Michael crumpled the paper and tossed it in a trash can, then pushed through the doors into Starship Group's lobby.
The lobby was blasting cold air. Two uniformed receptionists stood at the front desk.
When Michael walked in, the younger one on the left immediately perked up.
Sure, the guy dressed like he didn't have a care in the world, but those sharp, sculpted features, that straight-backed posture, and the effortlessly cool energy he gave off — he was more eye-catching than any actor on TV.
"Good morning, sir. How can I help you?" Her cheeks flushed slightly, her voice going a little softer than usual.
Michael walked up to the desk, leaned on it with both hands, and flashed what he considered his most charming smile. "Hey there. I'm here to see your CEO, Lucia."
"Do you have an appointment?" Her heart was beating a little faster.
"No appointment." Michael raised an eyebrow. "I'm her new personal bodyguard. You can call me Michael. Just let her know her bodyguard is here to check in."
At the words "personal bodyguard," the receptionist blinked, then a flicker of suspicion crossed her face.
Bodyguards looked like this now? And "personal bodyguard" — why did that sound like something straight out of a drama series?
"I'm sorry, sir, but without an appointment I can't send you up," she said, stepping back slightly, her guard going up. "Besides, Ms. Lucia has never hired male bodyguards."
Michael clicked his tongue. He could tell she didn't believe him.
He rubbed his chin and decided to try a more direct approach.
"Alright, fine. I'll be straight with you." He shifted into a more relaxed lean against the desk and winked at her. "Bodyguard is just my cover. My real role? I'm Ms. Lucia's husband."
The receptionist's expression collapsed instantly. She rolled her eyes so hard it was almost audible.
Whatever good impression she'd built up in the last thirty seconds was now in pieces on the floor.
"Sir, show some respect." She let out a cold laugh, her voice turning sharp. "Stop daydreaming in broad daylight. Ms. Lucia is getting engaged to Richard Miller next month. The whole city knows that. Whatever game you're playing, you've got the wrong address."
"Getting engaged?"
Michael paused, then shrugged with an easy grin. "Doesn't matter. Being married doesn't mean she can't have two husbands. I don't mind being number one."
"You're disgusting! What a creep!"
