Chapter 1 – Shattered Glass*
The chandeliers sparkled like fake stars over people with fake laughs. Nova slipped silently between tables with her tray—heels killing her, smile forced, mind somewhere far away with her little sister at home.
She wasn't supposed to be near *that* table. VIP section. Billionaires. The real wolves. But the other waitress bailed, and the manager shoved her forward.
She approached with shaking hands, holding a tray of gold-dusted champagne. That's when someone bumped into her from behind.
Time slowed.
Her tray wobbled. A flute tipped.
*Crash!*
The glass shattered. The tray hit the marble floor. And so did a sleek black phone, screen splintering like ice under pressure.
She froze. So did the world.
He stood there. Dark suit. Colder eyes.
Dominic Kane.
She had heard whispers—rich, ruthless, dangerous. Mafia rumors. But she only saw fury in his jaw, in the silence before the storm.
"You. Touched. My phone." His voice was low. Controlled. Deadly.
"I—I didn't mean—"
*SLAP!*
Her face whipped to the side. People gasped. Someone spilled their drink.
But she didn't cry. No tears. No drama. Just silence.
Then slowly… she pulled out crumpled notes from her apron—tips from the last three nights. Every coin. Every dollar.
"I'm sorry," she said, voice hoarse. "Here. It's all I have."
He stared. Not at the money. At *her*. The way she stood. The defiance wrapped in humility. The storm under her calm.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
---
Dominic didn't take the money.
He just stared as if he was seeing something rotten then he... slapped her hand away.
Nova felt her throat tighten. Every second stretched like wire. She wanted to walk away. She *should* have walked away.
But she stood there—humiliated, cheeks burning, holding out her crushed dignity, she bent and picked up the crumpled notes and the coins.
A corner of his mouth twitched. Not a smile. Something darker.
"Keep your money," he said coldly. "You've already bought my attention."
Her brows furrowed, confused. "What?"
"I want you to pay differently," he said. "Work it off."
"What are you talking about?" she asked, barely hiding the bite in her voice.
"From now on, you belong to me."
---
That night, the manager told her she'd been transferred. No warning. No discussion.
A black car waited outside the diner after her shift Along with a letter from her stepmother telling her she had been sold and now belonged to *him*. .
Nova's mind reeled as she was led away from the banquet hall. Sold. The word echoed in her head like a cruel joke. What did it mean? Where was she going? Who was this Dominic Kane, and what did he want from her?
She thought back to her stepmother's words, always laced with venom: "You're nothing but a burden." Had her stepmother really sold her? Nova's stomach churned with anger and fear.
As she was pushed into a sleek black car, Nova's instincts screamed at her to fight back. But against whom? The driver, a burly man with a stern expression, didn't seem like someone she could take down.
The city blurred outside the tinted windows. Nova's heart pounded in her chest. She had to think, to plan, to escape. But for now, she was trapped.
Nova thought of her sister—alone at home, hungry. She had no choice.
She got in.
Nova's mind was racing as she tried to piece together what was happening. She thought about her sister, her job, her tiny apartment... everything she knew and loved. Would she ever see them again?
As the car drove through the city, Nova noticed they were heading towards the outskirts. The buildings became fewer, and the streets darker. She felt a sense of unease growing inside her.
Suddenly, the car stopped in front of a grand mansion. The gates swung open, and the car drove through. Nova's heart sank. This was it. She was really gone.
The car stopped, and the driver got out. Nova was left alone for a moment, giving her a chance to think. She looked around, taking in the high walls, the security cameras, and the perfectly manicured lawn. This was a prison, and she was the captive.