I checked into the Plaza Hotel, the most luxurious in Manhattan. "Presidential Suite, two weeks." I tossed the limitless black card Julian gave me onto the counter. I hadn't touched this card in three years. But today, I was going to make it bleed. The moment I entered the room, I began a frenzy of spending. I wasn't buying jewelry; I am a hunter. I contacted a black market arms dealer. "I want a set of custom Mithril throwing knives, two large-caliber UV pistols, and that bulletproof, blast-resistant nano-combat suit." "Miss, that entire set will cost four million dollars." "Charge it." Then came the Vera Wang wedding dress, top-tier jewelry, and even a limited-edition sports car. In one day, I burned through ten million dollars of Julian's money. Soon, Julian's video call came through. In the holographic projection, he sat behind his desk, brows furrowed tight. "Elena, you're buying munitions? Are you planning to level New York?" "Why? Heartache over the money?" I asked casually as I polished a newly delivered gun barrel. "I'm marrying a werewolf alpha; I need some dowry for self-defense, don't I?" "You need ten million dollars to defend yourself?" "Of course," I raised the gun and aimed it at his virtual image. "After all, I heard that werewolf is a lunatic. Or is it that the great Vampire King can't even afford this little breakup fee?" Julian's eyes darkened. "Stop messing around. Come back soon." "Come back to where? To watch you and your old flame roll around in my bed?" I sneered and cut the call. I thought this would anger him, or at least make him feel a shred of guilt. But I was wrong. The next morning, when I tried to pay for breakfast at the hotel, the waiter looked at me awkwardly. "Miss Vance, your card has been frozen." "What?" "And... the hotel has received a notification. You've been blacklisted. Please leave immediately." I stood on the windswept Fifth Avenue, with nothing but a suitcase. My weapons, my new gear—all detained by the hotel. I tried contacting old friends, but the calls were met with busy signals or hypocritical excuses. The double blockade by the Vance family and Julian made it impossible for me to move in New York. Night fell, and I dragged my suitcase into Central Park. This was a gathering place for the homeless and low-level vampires. I found a bench and sat down, gripping the only weapon I had left—a silver folding knife in my pocket. Five days until the wedding. I had to stay alive to see that werewolf. Deep in the night, several low-level vampires with glowing red eyes surrounded me. "Look at this, a lone high-level hunter?" The leader bared yellow teeth, sniffing the air greedily. "Smells delicious." I stood up abruptly, snapping the knife open. "Back off, scum." "Don't be so fierce," another vampire laughed, lunging forward. "Let us have a taste..." Just as I prepared to fight to the death, a black blur descended from the sky. The vampire didn't even have time to scream before his head went flying. The air froze instantly. Julian stood under the streetlight in a long trench coat, his leather shoe stepping on the vampire corpse that was turning to ash. He removed his gloves, his crimson eyes shining startlingly bright in the darkness. The remaining vampires trembled in terror, kneeling on the ground and kowtowing desperately. "L-Lord..." Julian ignored them, simply looking at me coldly, his gaze sweeping over my messy hair and worn-out suitcase. "You'd rather feed vampires in the park than come home?"