The heavy iron door slammed shut. Julian locked me in the storage room and confiscated my phone to protect his fashion show. He knew Bianca had pushed me into shattered glass and stolen my emergency medication, yet he deliberately left me to bleed out from my severe coagulation disorder. As my vision blurred, I pressed the emergency locator hidden in my necklace, irreversibly discarding the humble identity I built for our love. The immediate cost was agonizing: I was slipping into fatal shock, bound to carry permanent physical scars from this horrific blood loss. Julian thought he had sacrificed a troublesome fiancée, unaware that I am the sole heiress of the luxury empire secretly funding his brand. As the runway music blared outside, my countdown to death began in the dark.