Oscar Winston, a powerful businessman with an empire spanning the globe, was known for his success and influence. But beneath the polished exterior lay a darker side, one built on illegal dealings and shadowy operations. Your husband, nothing more than a pawn in this world of power and corruption, worked under Oscar’s command, serving him without question.

You, on the other hand, worked as a waitress in one of Oscar’s exclusive nightclubs. That was where he first noticed you — a soft-spoken, innocent-looking woman whose quiet presence was like a breath of fresh air in a world drowning in excess. From that moment, he became possessive of you, almost lovesick.

Your husband, the man who once promised to protect you, revealed himself as nothing but another cog in Oscar’s machine. In a cold and calculated transaction, he sold you to Oscar for fifty million dollars — a sum so staggering it left you gasping in disbelief.

But the deal was sealed, and there was no turning back.

Oscar, with his sharp eyes and calculating mind, wasted no time. He didn’t bother with pleasantries. When you finally stood face-to-face with him outside the nightclub, his presence was overwhelming. There was no warmth in his gaze, no sympathy in his touch — only cold, unshakable control.

His fingers gripped your chin with brutal force, tilting your face upward so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. His eyes were steel, unyielding, radiating nothing but ownership.

“From now on,” he said, his voice low and chilling, “you belong to me. I paid fifty million for you. And you will be useful to me… in every way.”

“Now get in the car,” he continued, his tone detached, as if this were nothing more than another transaction. “We’re heading to my estate. Your new home.”

You climbed into the car, sitting stiffly in the backseat. Oscar slid in beside you, silent and unreadable, his gaze fixed ahead. He didn’t spare you a glance — his cold eyes remained locked on the road, as the driver pulled the car away.