Blurb：
When transmigrated soul Zara Petrova wakes up as Cleo Callaway, the "impotent" mafia kingpin Rafferty Gresham's neglected wife, she thinks she's won the lottery - until Rafferty returns home. Now Cleo must navigate his chilling obsession, GPS-tracked Rolexes, and bungled kidnappings to escape her gilded cage. But every failed attempt fuels Rafferty's dangerous desire, blurring the lines between captive and willing prisoner in this high-stakes game of cat and mouse.
From drunkenly flipping off the crime lord to accidentally sparking his carnal awakening, Cleo's chaotic antics unwittingly ensnare them both. As Rafferty tightens his grip with electric fences and vanished nightclubs, the question remains: Can a modern woman outsmart both the novel's plot and the syndicate boss's all-consuming obsession? Watch sparks fly between the reluctant mafia wife and the ruthless CEO who discovers his deadliest weakness is her.
Content：
§01Get in, you idiots! What are you waiting for?
The two men in ski masks stared at me, their burly frames frozen in the dim light of the parking garage.
One of them, the one holding the roll of duct tape, finally found his voice. Ma'am, we're the ones kidnapping you.
I rolled my eyes, hoisting myself into the back of their windowless van with an impatient grunt. "I'm aware. And you're doing a terrible job. The target is literally helping you. Let's go!"
I crawled to the back, settling onto the cold metal floor. It wasn’t exactly a limousine, but it was a one-way ticket out of my gilded cage.
Finally, they scrambled in after me, slamming the door shut and plunging us into darkness.
The engine roared to life, and the van peeled out of the garage.
Freedom. Or at least, the beginning of it.
We hadn't been on the road for more than five minutes when a succession of high-pitched squeals echoed from behind us.
The driver glanced in the rearview mirror, his knuckles white. "We've got company!"
I shuffled forward, peering through the front windshield.
A convoy of identical black sedans was on our tail, moving with the terrifying precision of a predator pack.
The lead kidnapper’s voice was shaking. "How did he find us so fast?"
My eyes darted to my wrist.
Of course. The custom Rolex he'd personally fastened there two days ago, with a soft smile and a chilling warning: "Never take it off."
I ripped the black duct tape from my mouth, ignoring the sting. "It's the watch! It has a GPS tracker! Get it off me and throw it out the window!"
The kidnapper just stared, his mind clearly unable to process a hostage giving tactical advice.
"Are you deaf?" I roared, fumbling with the clasp myself. My fingers were clumsy, shaking with adrenaline. I finally tore the watch free and shoved it into his hand. "Throw it!"
I punctuated the command with a sharp kick to his shin.
He yelped, scrambling to the side window and hurling the expensive timepiece into the night.
The driver kept glancing back, his panic palpable. "They're still gaining on us!"
"Then drive faster, you moron!" I snapped, slapping the back of his headrest.
The van surged forward.
The other kidnapper was looking at me with a mixture of fear and awe. "Lady," he breathed, "are you sure you're not some kind of deep-cover agent?"
Before I could answer, a brutal impact sent us lurching sideways.
A black sedan had pulled alongside, grinding against the van's cheap metal frame. Another appeared on the other side, boxing us in.
A third sedan rammed us from behind, again and again, the sound of crunching metal filling the small space.
It was over in two minutes.
The van's doors were torn open. Men in sharp suits, their faces grim, dragged the two failed kidnappers out onto the pavement.
And then, he appeared.
Rafferty Gresham.
He stood silhouetted against the harsh glare of the headlights, his tailored suit unruffled, his expression carved from ice.
His hand, when he reached for me, was bone-chillingly cold.
He pulled me from the van and into his arms, his grip like steel. His voice, however, was a soft, dangerous murmur against my hair. "It's alright. I've got you. Let's go home."
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