Part 2The Canary's Counterattack

I was an employee at Julian Thorne's company, and also his secret, unofficial lover.

I got involved with him right after graduating from college. The reason was simple: I needed money, and Julian happened to be the wealthiest man in City S—young, loaded, and devastatingly charming.

He had a face that women found nearly impossible to resist, so even though I knew perfectly well he had many girlfriends, I really didn't care.

What good is love, anyway?

Only money and a pretty face won't lie to you. I enjoyed everything Julian provided, and within a mere six months, I was promoted to the core, most highly classified project team at Thorne Group.

A week ago, the project hit a milestone, and Julian invited me to play on his private island.

I was thrilled. Everyone knew the wealthiest man in City S owned an unbelievably luxurious island, rumored to be filled with exotic animals and paved with solid gold.

Of course, those were just rumors. The imagination of poor people is pretty limited.

Aside from gold, silver, and jade, I couldn't really fathom what else could be described as "unbelievably luxurious."

I had curiously asked Julian about it, but he just gave me a mysterious smile and said:

"You'll see when you get there."

Filled with overwhelming excitement, I boarded Julian's private jet three days ago and landed on this island.

The moment I stepped off the plane, I was dumbfounded.

Because I wasn't the only woman Julian had brought.

Over a dozen stunning women, all with completely different styles, were lined up for the security check. It was quite a spectacle.

I recognized the woman standing near the front of the line; she was a beautiful maid who worked at Julian's mansion.

No wonder...

Whenever I stayed the night at Julian's place, she always looked at me with open hostility.

It turned out she was also one of his kept canaries.

"We can't even bring our phones? Are we here for a vacation or going to prison?!"

A sharp voice rang out from the front of the line. It belonged to a tall woman wearing black pantyhose and hot pants, her arms crossed defensively, looking thoroughly unapproachable.

The security staff, however, didn't flinch. Maintaining a blank expression, one of them gestured back toward the plane and said:

"Ma'am, the island has its rules. If you find them unacceptable, you are welcome to go home."

Hearing this, the woman's arrogant demeanor instantly deflated.

Under the scorching sun, her face flushed bright red. Finally, with no other option, she sullenly surrendered her phone and dragged her luggage inside.

Seeing this, the other women kept their mouths shut, obediently submitting to the inspection and handing over all communication devices.

I stood at the back of the line, my right eyelid twitching violently. A deep sense of unease settled in my stomach.

When it was my turn, the staff member repeated the exact same spiel:

"Ma'am, if you find this truly unacceptable, you are welcome to take the plane back."

I looked back at the tarmac. After a moment of hesitation, I gritted my teeth and stepped onto the island.

But later...

I never would have imagined that that was my one and only chance to survive.