Ella woke up suddenly, gasping. The air around her felt thick and hot, as if someone had cranked up the heat to unbearable levels.
Squinting her eyes open, she was met with the eerie orange glow of flames licking up the walls, smoke filling every corner of the room. She couldn’t breathe.
Her throat scratched with every gasp, her lungs screaming for relief.
Instinctively, she covered her mouth with her sleeve and tried to rise.
That’s when she stumbled, her feet catching on something soft yet unyielding. She glanced down and froze.
“Dad…” The word came out as a broken whisper.
Her father lay still beside her, his face peaceful yet hauntingly lifeless. He had no visible injuries, nothing to suggest he’d been hurt—yet here he was, lying motionless.
Panic clawed at her chest, but amid the terror, a strange familiarity washed over her. She recognized this place: her father’s factory workshop, his beloved pharmaceutical lab.
Her mind raced, piecing together fragments of memory and realization. If this was the lab, then… then her father’s accident wasn’t an accident at all. He hadn’t died in some car crash. He’d been murdered. Someone had set this fire deliberately.
But who?
A muffled voice floated through the roar of the flames, catching her attention. Ella strained to listen, pulling herself closer to the window despite the heat pressing against her like a weight. Through the haze, she heard the voice more clearly.
“Five hundred thousand? Mr. Montgomery, where’s the beggar you sent?”
Mr. Montgomery? The name sent a jolt through her. She strained further, desperate to hear more, every word digging into her like nails.
“What does using the Blake family as dowry to marry Amy have to do with me? I want five million, not a penny less!”
The words punched the breath out of her. Using the Blake family as dowry…? That meant it was him—Lucas Montgomery.
That man, the one she’d trusted, the one who’d vowed to be by her side, was behind this nightmare.
And he’d planned it all along, turning her family into nothing more than a bargaining chip for his own gain.
The bitter taste of betrayal filled her mouth, mingling with the metallic tang of blood as she fought for breath. Her vision blurred, dark spots dancing in front of her eyes as the heat consumed her strength.
“Lucas Montgomery,” she whispered, every syllable laced with venom. “If I survive this, I swear you’ll pay.”
But her body gave out before she could hold on to the promise.
---
Six Years Later
Newark Liberty International Airport, USA
In a crowded corner of Newark’s bustling airport, a woman sat with her head down, wearing oversized sunglasses and a black baseball cap. She was dressed casually, but there was an air of mystery about her, a hint of something hidden beneath her calm demeanor.
A soft voice, in fluent English, came through her phone. “Mommy, when are you coming home?”
Ella Blake—or, as she was known now, Lila Kane—smiled at the little girl’s face on the screen. “Soon, sweetheart. Mommy’s just waiting for a better flight. The weather’s a bit rough.”
As if on cue, a distant boom echoed through the terminal, sending everyone ducking under their seats in panic.
On the screen, her daughter’s big eyes widened. “Mommy, is it thundering over there?”
“Well… you could say that.” Lila’s tone remained gentle, as though she were just speaking about the weather.
The little girl’s face scrunched up on the screen, shaking her head. “ I am not scared, but… my brother says it’s dangerous to talk on the phone during thunderstorms. You’d better hang up, Mommy.”
“Oh?” Ella raised an amused eyebrow. “Where’s your brother right now, anyway?”
The girl’s eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. “Still sleeping! He stayed up too late last night.”
It was just dawn back in Fairfield. Knowing her son, he was probably out like a light, wrapped up in his blankets. Ella sighed, her heart longing for home. “Alright, sweetie. Mommy will call you when the weather’s better, okay? Be good.”
“Okay, Mommy. Take care!”
Just as Ella ended the call, a sudden explosion shook the terminal. People screamed, some ducking under benches, while others scrambled in a panic.
Ella's heart skipped a beat, but she stayed rooted, calm amidst the chaos.
After years on the front lines as a war correspondent, chaos and danger had become second nature.
In truth, the Ella everyone had once known had died six years ago in a fiery blaze. The remains found by the police had been mistaken for her, but they were actually those of an unfortunate intern named Lila Kane, caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Ella had barely escaped with her life, but the fire had left her unrecognizable. She’d undergone reconstructive surgery, transforming into Lila Kane in appearance.
Her voice was rougher, too, damaged from the smoke, making it almost impossible for anyone to connect her to the past.
In the six years since, she’d given birth to a pair of twins, but when they turned one, her superiors had assigned her a residency in war-torn Westvale city.
Now, with her term complete, she was eager to return to her children, to a life far from the dangers she’d lived in.
As the airport staff announced another delay due to the escalating unrest, Ella felt her heart sink. She needed a way out, but it seemed every option was closing.
Ella wasted no time, immediately calling her contact at the news agency.
After years as a journalist stationed in some of the world’s most volatile regions, she knew how to handle herself in emergencies, but her patience was wearing thin. She needed to get home.
Her contact’s voice came over the line, firm but slightly anxious. “There’s one option. A private plane’s coming through. The owner’s agreed to pick you up, but… well, he’s not known for being… approachable.”
Lila rolled her eyes. “I’ve dealt with warlords and dictators. How bad can he be?”
A few minutes later, the sleek private jet circled and landed, a dazzling display against the dreary airport lights.
She boarded quickly, grateful for the escape, until her gaze locked onto the man waiting inside.
Her blood ran cold.
It was him. Lucas Montgomery.
The man who had orchestrated her father’s death, the man she had vowed to bring down.
For six years, she had dreamed of this moment. She had rehearsed what she’d say, how she’d confront him.
But now that he stood there, mere feet away, the weight of it hit her all over again.
Lucas piercing gaze settled on her, appraising her with that familiar air of entitlement. “You must be Lila Kane?”
In that instant, Ella knew she couldn’t give herself away. Not yet. Lucas was more dangerous than ever, and she had to keep her identity hidden.
With a slow, deliberate smile, she replied, “Yes. And you must be Mr. Montgomery.”
Luca's eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of amusement crossing his face. “You know of me?”
Lila shrugged casually. “What journalist hasn’t? A man of your… reputation isn’t exactly low-profile.”
Luca's lips curled into a smirk. “Is that so? What exactly have you heard?”
She paused, as if considering, before replying, “Oh, just rumors. Like how Mr. Lucas is known for being… unpredictable.” She met his gaze, her tone light but her words laced with meaning. “And perhaps a little untrustworthy.”
There was a collective intake of breath from Lucas' staff, who glanced nervously at each other, their eyes widening at her boldness.
Even Lucas' expression flickered, a flash of something darker crossing his face.
“Is that so?” he murmured, his gaze never leaving hers. “Do go on. I’m intrigued.”
Lila took a deep breath, steadying herself. “Well, I could tell you more, but you’d have to sign a waiver first.”
“A waiver?”
“Yes, a guarantee that you won’t try to kill me if I tell you something you don’t like.”
Lucas'slaughter was low, but there was no mirth in his eyes. “You think a waiver would stop me if I wanted to?”
“Probably not,” she admitted, her tone flippant. “But it might make you think twice.”
Everyone around them held their breath, bracing for Lucas' reaction. It was no secret that he’d become even more ruthless since his wife’s mysterious death years ago, and his moods were known to swing from amiable to lethal without warning.
For a moment, Ella thought he might lash out, but instead, he laughed, the sound rich and slightly menacing. “You’ve got some nerve, Ms. Kane. I’ll give you that.”
“Well, I am a journalist.” She shrugged as though it were obvious. “Nerve is part of the job description.”
