As the FBI surrounded the building, I checked the safe room surveillance tape to destroy our data, only to watch my husband Dante handing my escape passport and funds to Elena—his supposedly dead first love. He had deliberately left me behind as a firewall to take the fall. Instead of exposing him, I quietly put on the handcuffs to embrace the prison trap. To secure a fake death and orchestrate my return, I had to survive a brutal cell assassination. The cost was irreversible: a severely disfigured face and the absolute death of my ability to love. Three years later, Dante’s crumbling syndicate forces him to beg for a truce from the ruthless Black Diamond. As he desperately pushes through the gala crowd, he stares in horror at the silver-masked woman on stage.