At the peak of the snowy mountains in NATO territory, the fierce wind howled through the blizzard, wiping clean any signs of life almost instantly.

Lydia Sterling had just reached the summit when the storm hit—hard. She’d already ditched everything she could along the way, leaving her with just her ski poles in hand and the snowboard strapped to her back.

The skies, once bright, dimmed visibly as the snowstorm pressed down like a falling curtain.

The brutal weather was draining her fast. Even with her background as a retired special forces major, Lydia couldn’t help but feel the exhaustion creeping heavy into her bones.

Grinding her teeth, she pushed her way to the very top. Not wasting a second, she strapped into her snowboard, locked in, and launched herself down the slope.

This was her second trip back for alpine snowboarding since retiring.

But this time, luck wasn’t exactly on her side.

Her board carved sleek arcs through the thick snow, her fully geared figure slicing down the mountain like a shadow while the fluffy snow behind her chased like a wave ready to crash.

There’s something about extreme sports—when you’re toe-to-toe with nature and every second counts—that rush hits different.

In her ears, distorted music thumped. Behind her, death was hot on her heels. Ahead, it was nothing but freedom—wild and wide open.

She raced down the mountain, cutting through the heavy snowfall. For one wild, breathtaking moment, her black silhouette broke free into the sky like it was flying straight toward freedom.

Right before it went dark, she made it to the outpost at the base.

The speed, the risk—it had held her nerves tight like a bowstring. And the second it all let go, exhaustion slammed into her full-force.

Lydia collapsed onto the ground, completely spent—not even a finger twitched.

Vladimir Ivanov, the outpost owner, came over with a couple of people. He deftly removed her earbuds, unzipped her gear to help her breathe, then had her lifted onto a stretcher and taken inside.

As soon as the warmth hit her, it felt like the frozen blood in her veins finally sprang back to life.

Lying on the stretcher, she exhaled and lazily opened her eyes to glance at Vladimir, who was eyeing her with a crooked grin.

Her cool voice, sharp with a British edge, floated out. “Missing the ride was your loss, you know.”

He rolled his eyes. “Please, you were two seconds away from being a popsicle.”

Vladimir liked skiing, sure—but risking his neck for it? Hard pass.

Lydia just smiled, that calm glint lighting up her eyes.

Right then, a staff member walked up, holding out a phone toward the two of them. “Boss, it’s a call from the Hua Xia Empire for Ms. Sterling.”

“For me?” Lydia exchanged a brief look with Vladimir and motioned for the speakerphone to be turned on.A low, mellow male voice came through the phone, “Why didn’t you answer?”

There was a trace of helplessness in his tone, mixed with obvious fondness.

Lydia Sterling's gaze softened, the sharpness in her eyes fading into a playful calm. “Got caught in a snowstorm. My phone and backpack went flying somewhere along the path.”

Felix Sterling let out a barely audible sigh on the other end, voice still steady, “Two days till New Year. I booked you a flight. Come back home for the holiday.”

Lydia wasn’t too keen on the idea.

But then he added, “Grandpa’s in the hospital.”

“What?!”

Felix stood outside the intensive care unit, rubbing his temples tiredly. “He didn’t want me to tell you. But I figured... you deserve to know.”

The news hit her like a truck. Still dizzy from the lack of oxygen up in the mountains, Lydia’s mind blanked out.

It took her a few seconds to part her lips. Her voice came out hoarse, “Is it serious?”

Felix’s voice was calm, “He’s stable now. I think he wants to see you.”

Yeah... it’s been three, maybe four years since she last saw the General.

The Sterlings had always been a political family.

Grandpa Sterling was a national war hero, one of the legendary generals.

Their parents? Both died heroes on a border mission.

Lydia was barely a year old. Her parents never made it back, sacrificed for the country.

And it was the old general who, despite everything, raised her and Felix — him only seven back then — on his own.

While Felix was gentle and quiet, choosing business with Grandpa’s support, Lydia was all fire.

She joined the army at eighteen without a second thought.

After five years of service, she clawed her way through with sheer grit, rising from nobody to the youngest female major general.

Others worked their way up with time and merit.

Lydia? She fought her way there, each rank earned through blood and bone.

At twenty-three, two years ago, she left the force and chased adrenaline instead — extreme challenges around the globe.

Unrestrained and wild, she’d spent the last two years practically circling the northern hemisphere.

With Grandpa’s indulgence, she barely noticed — he was nearing 80 now.

She needed to get home. ASAP.

But the earliest flight wasn’t until noon tomorrow.

Just then, Vladimir Ivanov walked over holding a phone. “Lydia, I've got a friend flying back to Jingdu on his private jet tonight. Wanna hitch a ride?”

Frustrated with the lack of flights, Lydia raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you hang around that kind of rich?”

He smiled mysteriously. “Hey, my family's still nobility in NATO circles. Mr. Marshall’s a family business partner. Loves extreme sports too.”He pointed at the house across from them as he spoke, “Just like you, that place is always kept ready for him. He came down from the summit about an hour before you.”

“I figured you’d want to head home sooner, so I asked. He agreed.”

Vladimir Ivanov still seemed a bit surprised as he added, “Which is weird, honestly. He’s usually not that easy to talk to. Guess you lucked out.”

Lydia Sterling smiled, “Thanks, really.”

Vladimir gave her a mock salute. “His plane leaves in two hours. You’ve got thirty minutes to wash up, then I’ll drive you down.”

She nodded and headed into the bathroom without bothering to keep up appearances.

The warm water, close to body temp, ran over her skin as she quickly freshened up. Catching a glimpse of the scar by her shoulder blades in the mirror, she shrugged with a small grin and stepped out, leaving wet footprints behind.

Less than thirty minutes later, she swapped her heavy ski suit for a sleek black coat and walked out looking sharp and fresh.

The black sunglasses made her skin look even fairer, red lips and delicate nose adding to her striking beauty.

There was something wild about her, like a sleek little panther—dangerous and impossible to ignore.

Vladimir talked up her looks with a grin while driving her down the mountain.

At the base, Mr. Marshall’s car was already waiting.

Next to it stood a tall, strong man backlit by the setting sun. When he saw them approaching, he moved to open the passenger door.

“Miss Sterling, please sit up front,” he said politely but firmly.

His boss didn’t like being disturbed. Letting someone hitch a ride like this was already way out of character.

Lydia didn’t mind. With a quick wave goodbye to Vladimir, she slid into the front seat.

The partition behind her came up, cutting off any view or sound from the backseat.

She looked around, quickly noting the car was a high-end armored model, seriously top-tier stuff.

With a raised brow, she was pretty sure she knew who this car belonged to.

A man named Marshall, running business all over NATO territory, owner of a private jet, from the capital? That could only be one person.

Grant Marshall—head of the legendary Marshall Conglomerate, an empire that had dominated the capital’s elite circles for over a century.

And even more famous than the Marshall name… was the one currently at the top—Grant Marshall.