Chapter 1 Chapter 1

MARTHA.

In Sun City, the rain fell heavily at 7 p.m. on Friday evening as I stepped out of the high-end restaurant called Silver's to leave for my father's house.

When I reached the main road, I hailed a taxi, climbed into the back seat, and went home.

Upon arriving, I found my stepmother, Sandra Roger, in the living room. She wore a dazzling blue nightdress and black slippers, and she frowned when she saw me return early.

Thunder struck as soon as I shut the door behind me, drenched from the heavy downpour.

The clock read 8 p.m. I greeted my stepmother, "Good evening, Mom."

"Martha, why are you home so early?" Sandra asked as she rose to her feet.

Looking at her frowning face, I asked, "What kind of question is that? This is my father's house, and I can return home whenever I like."

"Oh sure," Sandra replied with a smile and sat back down. I knew she disliked me and only pretended to marry into my family. But after her marriage to my father, she treated me poorly until he died two years ago. I had to live with Sandra because my father's will stated that he left the whole house to me, while Sandra and her daughter, Elena, stole the company.

Ignoring my stepmother, I rushed upstairs to my room to change out of my wet clothes. But as I neared the door, intense groaning and moaning froze me in place.

"Ah, Mark! Fụck!" I heard Elena's voice crying out as the man rode her to ecstasy.

My fist clenched at how Elena moaned like a lunatic. Couldn't she take her boyfriend to a hotel? Why bring him here to our father's house? Couldn't she have a little respect for our late father?

I wanted to ignore Elena—I was four years older than her. I was 24, and she was 20.

But then I heard Elena cry out again, "Fụck me, Mark!"

I froze.

Who was Mark? Was he my fiancé, Mark Elliott?

I wanted to ignore them, thinking there were many Marks, so no fuckìng way would Mark Elliott be the man with my shameless sister. But then I heard Elena say, "Mark, do you enjoy having sex with Martha like you do with me?"

"Fụck it, Elena. Martha has a dry pụssy, and I don't enjoy anything with her. She's too skinny and lacks the plump boobs and soft ass you have."

"What?" My fist clenched as I spun around to face Elena's bedroom door, and I heard her reply.

"Awn… I'm glad you see us differently. How about your engagement to Martha? Aren't you going to call it off? You can't marry her over me," Elena purred as Mark drove into her. The sounds of his moans echoed in the corridor, along with the squelching sounds of her pûssy.

"Don't worry. I'm only marrying Martha to take over your father's company. Don't forget that your mother said your father left everything in Martha's name, except that she deceived Martha into thinking your father left only the house for her."

"What?" I gasped, blood draining from my face as I heard their discussion. I couldn't pull the door open to face them. Elena's door was slightly ajar, and I spun around to leave the house—only to see my stepmother standing in the corridor with a pestle in her hands.

"Martha, your time is up. You can't take everything away from my daughter and me," Sandra said, raising the pestle to smash it on me. But I dodged her attack and pushed her to the ground.

"Ahhh!" Sandra gasped as she landed on her butt.

After hearing that Sandra had changed my father's will to suit her preference, I jumped on her and smacked her face multiple times.

"Martha, how dare you?" Sandra shrieked. Elena's bedroom door flew open. Elena and Mark shamelessly darted out of her room nàked and looked stunned to see Sandra on the ground after I had smacked her ten times for changing my father's will. 'Who knows if Sandra had a hand in my father's mysterious death two years ago?'

"Martha, how dare you lay your filthy hands on my mother?" Elena growled at me, but I glared at her in disgust.

"You shameless slut. Riding my ex, and you think you'll be better than me or get my inheritance? Only in your dreams." I spun around to leave the house, knowing I couldn't stay there with them.

Before I left the corridor, Mark called out to me, "Martha, you can't leave this city. Know that our marriage has already been scheduled, and whether you like it or not, you must marry me!"

"Only in your dreams. I will never marry an ásshole and a cheap dog like you!" I cursed at Mark, before I left the corridor.

Tears flooded down my cheeks as I made my way outside the duplex my father owned. The house used to be peaceful until my dad married that evil witch.

Clenching my fist, I hurried out of the house, leaving everything behind. I would be back for them. I made my way to the road to get a cab.

The rain poured down heavily on me as I found a taxi.

"To Dennis Hotel," I said, as it was getting late. I had nowhere to go. My relatives lost interest in me after my mother's death. They blame me for her death, as they preferred I should have died in her place instead of her having me as her baby. She died given birth to me.

Wiping the sobs from my cheeks, I looked out the window. The money I had could barely sustain me.

When the taxi arrived at the hotel, I got out, paid the driver, and made my way inside.

Dennis Hotel was a popular brothel in town, and I wanted to spend the night there to cheat on Mark and forget those mean words he said about me.

When I entered the hotel lobby, the receptionist peered at me and frowned.

"Hey, miss. What are you doing here all soaked?" she asked, and I drew a deep breath.

"I want a night with any available man. How much will I be paid?"

"Haha!" The two receptionists laughed at my broken state.

"You're too skinny to attract any client. So go out and look for another hotel or brothel to satisfy your fantasy," they dismissed me. But I was clearly determined to show them I am not one to give up easily. If I don't get the money to have my stepmother arrested, then I will be the one at a loss.

"I'm serious, and I'm not leaving this brothel. Please," I said, stripping off my wet blue dress that I had worn to work that morning.

"Hey! What are you doing?" the receptionist growled as she walked out from behind her desk.

"Let her go!" A deep voice startled me, and I turned to see who it was.

It was a group of five men in black who walked into the hotel lobby. The one who spoke had golden-colored eyes that sent chills down my spine. I had never seen any human with such eye color before.

"Welcome, sir. We are just trying to keep our hotel a conducive environment. What do you want?" the female receptionist in a black skirt and white top, who had wanted to chase me out, asked the tall, formidable man who walked in to meet us.