**Chapter 1: The Night the Rubies Wept**
**Ironheart Bridge — 7:55 PM**
The wind bit through Tania's threadbare coat as she clutched the railing of Ironheart Bridge, her knuckles white against the rusted metal. Below, the black waters of the Lucin River churned, swallowing the reflection of the city's neon skyline. She glanced at her phone again. *7:56 PM*.
Daniel had promised.
*"Meet me at the bridge at sunset,"* he'd said, his voice warm as honey over the phone that morning. *"I have something important to ask you."*
Tania's heart had soared. Two years of stolen kisses in alleyways, whispered dreams over instant noodles in her cramped apartment, and fights over his "business trips" that always left her gut knotted with suspicion—it would all be worth it tonight. She'd even worn the red dress he'd bought her last Christmas, the one she'd saved for a "special occasion." The fabric clung to her curves, cheap lace itching her skin, but she didn't care. Not when Daniel would finally *choose* her.
*8:00 PM*.
Her phone buzzed. A notification lit up the screen:
**@SocietyDailyLucin: BREAKING — Daniel Harlow, rising star of Onward Corp, announces engagement to Eleanor Onward!**
The photo beneath the headline stole her breath. Daniel, smirking in a tailored tuxedo, arm draped around Eleanor Onward's porcelain shoulders. Eleanor—all icy blonde perfection, her smile sharp enough to slit throats. Clifford Onward's daughter. The *billionaire's* daughter.
Tania's knees buckled. The locket Daniel had given her—a tarnished silver heart engraved with *"Forever Yours"*—slipped from her trembling fingers. It hit the bridge with a dull *clink* before plummeting into the abyss below.
"You liar," she whispered, nails digging into her palms. The city lights blurred into streaks of gold and crimson.
**Lucin City Slums — 8:30 PM**
The stench of rotting garbage hit Tania like a slap as she stumbled into her apartment building. Her heels—too tight, borrowed from a coworker—clicked unevenly on cracked linoleum. She barely registered the shouts echoing through the hallways, the wail of a child two doors down.
Her phone rang again. **Uncle Marco**.
She answered, voice hollow. "Not now, Tío—"
"*Mija*, they took him!" Marco's voice cracked. "The Luicun Kings—they raided the office! They're saying your father funneled money into their shell company. The police arrested him, but—"
Tania's blood turned to ice. "But *what*?"
A muffled sob. "They're not real cops, Tania. It's Viper's men. They'll kill him in that cell unless we pay the debt. Five million. By dawn."
The numbers punched through her chest. *Five million*. Her father, Luis Reyes—a man who'd sold his taxi cab to put her through college, who'd invested his last peso in a "sure thing" promised by slick men in suits—now had a price tag on his life.
"I'll fix this," she lied, hanging up before Marco could hear her choke.
**The Crimson Hideaway — 9:45 PM**
The bar was a tomb of velvet and smoke, its patrons sipping bourbon that cost more than Tania's rent. She'd never set foot here before—this was a place for the Alphas, the city's untouchable elite—but desperation had claws.
She ordered the cheapest whiskey and drank it like water, the burn numbing the edges of her rage. Her reflection in the mirror behind the bar mocked her: smudged mascara, red dress wrinkled, hair a riot of dark curls. A street rat in a palace.
Then she saw *him*.
Clifford Onward.
He sat alone at the corner booth, a shadow in a charcoal suit, his face half-lit by the flickering candle on the table. Even in the gloom, Tania could see the sharp cut of his jaw, the faint dimples that appeared as he scribbled in a leather-bound notebook. The rumors painted him as a ghost—a billionaire who'd vanished after his wife's death, only to reemerge colder, crueler, with a empire built on blood-red rubies and darker secrets.
Tania's fingers brushed her grandmother's pendant—a ruby the size of a thumbnail, strung on a fraying gold chain. *"This stone survived wars,*" Abuela had whispered on her deathbed. *"Let it survive you."*
Another whiskey. Another step closer to Clifford's table.
Her heel caught on the uneven floor.
The world tilted.
A jagged edge of the wrought-iron table snagged her dress, tearing it from thigh to hip with a sound like a scream.
"Shit," Tania hissed, scrambling to cover herself.
A hand gripped her elbow, steadying her.
"Careful."
His voice was low, a rumble of distant thunder. Clifford Onward stood inches away, his gaze sweeping over her torn dress, lingering on the ruby at her throat. Up close, he was younger than she'd imagined—mid-thirties, maybe—but his eyes were ancient, gray as a storm-churned sea.
Tania jerked free. "I don't need help."
One dark brow arched. "No? Then why are you here, Miss Reyes?"
Her breath hitched. *He knows my name.*
Before she could speak, he reached out, calloused fingers brushing the pendant. "Where did you get this?"
"None of your business."
Clifford's lips quirked, dimples flashing like knives. "It became my business the moment you walked into my bar."
*His bar.* Of course.
He stepped closer, his cologne—smoke and bergamot—drowning her. "Five million dollars. That's what you need, isn't it?"
Tania froze. "How—"
"The Luicun Kings aren't subtle." His thumb grazed her collarbone, just above the ruby. "Work for me. Be my fiancée for three months. In return, I'll erase your father's debt… and burn Viper Lao's empire to ash."
She laughed, bitter. "Why me?"
Clifford's gaze dropped to her lips. "Because you're the first person in a decade who hasn't looked at me like I'm a checkbook." He paused. "And because that ruby you're wearing? It's mine."
From his pocket, he drew a cufflink—a perfect twin to her pendant.
"Your grandmother stole it from my family's vault in 1987," he said softly. "Consider this a chance to repay the debt."
The room spun. Daniel's betrayal. Her father's blood money. The ruby's weight like a noose around her neck.
Clifford offered his hand. "Do we have a deal, Miss Reyes?"
Somewhere in the shadows, a clock struck midnight.
Tania took his hand.
**End of Chapter 1**