Chapter 1 - THE VOLCANO ERUPTS
The silence in the grand foyer was heavier than the crystal chandeliers hanging from the triple-height ceiling.
Richard Vance—a man worth over twelve billion dollars, a ruthless corporate titan whose mere name made Wall Street executives break into a cold sweat—stood frozen at his own front door. His expensive Italian leather shoes felt glued to the marble floor. His hand tightened around his leather briefcase until his knuckles turned ghostly white.
Before him, kneeling on the cold stone, was a young girl wearing a faded, stained maid’s apron. Her hands were red and raw from scrubbing bleach into the floor without gloves. Blood was slowly weeping from small cuts on her fingertips. Tears had traced clean lines through the dust on her cheeks.
It was Maya. His biological daughter.
The child he had spent sixteen long, grueling years searching for after a tragic kidnapping shattered his first marriage. The child he had brought back to this mansion just eight months ago, believing he was giving her the life of luxury she deserved.
And sitting on a plush velvet sofa just ten feet away, swirling a glass of $5,000-a-bottle Pinot Noir, was Victoria—his second wife. Victoria wore a flawless Chanel suit, her diamond-encrusted rings catching the warm ambient light. She didn't look remorseful. She didn't even look surprised. She merely raised an eyebrow, taking a calm, deliberate sip of her wine.
"Dad…?" Maya whispered, her voice cracking. The single word carried months of silent torture, broken spirits, and unimaginable betrayal.
"What… is the meaning of this?" Richard’s voice wasn't loud, but it resonated with a terrifying, low frequency that vibrated through the vast mansion.
"Oh, darling, calm down," Victoria said softly, setting her crystal glass on the side table with a light clink. "You came home early. You know the doctor said high stress isn't good for your heart. Don't make a scene over nothing."
"Nothing?!" Richard roared, the sheer force of his voice causing the household staff standing in the shadows to flinch. He dropped his briefcase, the thud echoing like a gunshot. In three long strides, he was at Maya's side.
He dropped to his knees—a billionaire who never bowed to anyone—ignoring the dirty water soaking into his trousers. He grabbed Maya’s trembling hands, his heart shattering into a thousand jagged pieces as he saw the blisters, the calluses, and the deep emotional trauma locked behind her swollen eyes.
"What did she do to you?" Richard stammered, tears springing to his eyes for the first time in twenty years. "Maya, look at me. What has been happening in this house while I was away?!"
Maya looked up at her father, but before she could speak, her eyes flicked nervously toward the grand staircase.
Standing on the landing above was Julian—Victoria’s 19-year-old son from a previous marriage. He was wearing an expensive silk bathrobe, holding an iPad, and sneering down at the scene. Beside him stood the head housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, who held a heavy leather strap hidden half behind her apron.
Maya shivered violently and buried her face in Richard’s chest, weeping uncontrollably. "I'm sorry, Dad! I'm sorry! I didn't finish scrubbing the floor in time! Please don't lock me in the cellar again! Please!"
Richard felt as if a physical blade had been driven into his chest. The cellar?
He raised his head, his eyes burning with a murderous rage as he stared directly at Victoria. "You locked my daughter in the cellar?"
Victoria scoffed, crossing her legs. "Richard, stop being so dramatic. The girl is undisciplined. She came from a low-class background and had terrible manners. I was simply teaching her humility and hard work. Someone had to raise her properly while you were away spending weeks in London and Tokyo!"
"You turned my daughter into a servant!" Richard screamed, standing up and towering over his wife. "In my own home! With my money!"
"Your money?" Victoria snapped back, her eyes narrowing into cold slits as her sweet facade finally cracked. "You think this is just your money, Richard? Look around you. Who manages your social standing? Who runs your charitable foundations? I made you respectable! And this little rat you brought home from the slums was ruining our family image!"
"Get out," Richard said, his voice dropping into a dangerously quiet register.
Victoria blinked. "What?"
"I said, GET OUT!" Richard barked. "You, your arrogant parasite of a son, and every single staff member in this house who laid a finger on my daughter. You have ten minutes to pack your personal belongings. If you are still on my property in eleven minutes, I will have security throw you into the street in your underwear."
Julian hustled down the stairs, looking panicked. "Mom, he can't do that, right? Tell him he can't!"
Victoria, however, didn't panic. Instead, a slow, sinister smile spread across her red lips. She stood up, smoothing down her skirt, and looked at Richard with chilling amusement.
"Throw me out, Richard?" Victoria purred, stepping closer to him. "You really think you can just kick me out? You haven't checked your emails today, have you?"
Richard frowned, a pit of dread forming in his stomach.
Victoria took out her phone, tapped the screen, and turned it toward Richard's face. "While you were on your private jet back from Hong Kong, the emergency Board of Directors meeting at Vance Enterprises concluded. Thanks to the proxy votes granted by your chief legal counsel—who, as you know, is my brother—you have been officially removed as Chairman and CEO."
Richard froze. "You're lying."
"Check your phone, darling," Victoria whispered, her voice laced with poison. "You own 40% of the company, but together with the board members I've bought over the last six months, I control 51%. As of two hours ago, Vance Enterprises belongs to me. This mansion is registered under the corporate holding company. Technically, Richard… you are trespassing."
May you like
Before Richard could process the catastrophic news, the front doors opened once more. Four armed private security guards stepped inside, led by Victoria’s brother, Arthur.
"I'm sorry, Richard," Arthur said with a fake, icy smile. "Security will escort you and your... maid off the premises immediately."
