Chapter 1 Gunfight

Olivia’s perspective,

It was the winter of 2006, just after Christmas, in the northern US. The temperature had dropped below minus thirty degrees. Snow had fallen for two days and two nights, blanketing the entire city in a vast expanse of white.

The breath I exhaled froze instantly into ice crystals. I was twenty at the time, but I was unsure of Rowan Morgan's age.

During those years in California, there was a lot of fighting between the mafia. I never imagined that I would be caught in this fierce battle just on my way to the store.

I had no idea how long the fight lasted. At first, the arrogant fat man was driven into a corner by a swift and nimble black shadow, ultimately falling onto his knees in the snowdrift.

The man was tall, emitting an imposing and ferocious aura. He wore a neatly tailored black suit, with a long black coat draped over it, flapping in the wind and snow. He pressed the gun against the fat man's forehead with his right hand.

The fat man stared at the barrel of the gun, his face wrinkled with fat, trembling as he begged, "Rowan! Spare me... Tell me what I can do? Do you want me out of your territory?"

With his back turned to me, I couldn't see his face. He remained silent, but the fat man who knelt before him suddenly twitched twice, then fell backwards stiffly. I widened my eyes in fear.

The icicles hanging from the telephone booth burst into pieces as the roaring northwestern wind swept by, cutting across my nose with a bone-chilling coldness. I snapped back to my senses from the shock and dragged my weak legs to move further away.

Just as I spotted a glimmer of hope, thinking I had escaped the ordeal, the suppressed handgun, that had taken care of the fat man a few minutes ago, was pressed against my lower back. In an instant, my whole body froze.

"What did you see?" A low and menacing male voice concealed a murderous intent.

My teeth involuntarily chattered, and I trembled, saying, "I didn't see anything."

The barrel of the gun pushed harder against me, sliding down and poking my buttocks through my clothes. Thinking that he might have had ulterior motives and wanting to save my life, I played dumb.

"Sir, are you looking for a customer? Do you have a car? Shall we do it in the car? It's too cold outside."

He didn't move, so I continued, "If you're worried I'll call the police, I have condoms in my bag."

He didn't say a word, took back his gun, and covered my face with a plastic bag. By the time I removed it and turned around, he had already disappeared, leaving only a row of deep footprints in the dark night.

I didn't even get a good look at his face, but his voice was burnt into my memory. Along with the bright, and glaring, bloodstain at the spot where he left had implanted itself firmly in my mind.

I returned to the casino to find my sugar daddy, Kevin Smith, seated comfortably on the couch. Kevin had recently come back from New York, accompanied by a woman who was well-known in the city's vibrant nightlife scene. His secretary informed me that this woman had been attending to Kevin throughout his stay in New York.

I wrapped my arms around his neck. "Where are you going? Why didn't you look for me when you came back?" I asked.

I never asked about his personal matters because he despised women who were jealous, and inquisitive about his whereabouts. But today, I broke my silence. He looked at me for a moment before telling me he had to go out.

I clung to him persistently, my fingers following the contour of his chest, stopping at his abdomen. I lightly tugged on his belt, bringing our bodies even closer.

"Have you missed me while you were gone?"

With skill, I sucked on his Adam's apple, it was the most sensitive spot was his throat, and every time I licked it, he couldn't resist. Using my teeth, I undid his shirt buttons, coiling around him like a snake.

There was a knock at the door, his secretary stood at the entrance, bowing her head as she said, "Miss Brown called, and urged you to come."