PROLOGUE

Standing at the edge of a twenty-story building at the heart of Metropolis in the freezing afternoon of the first day in the new year was equally scary as it was thrilling. As the untamed chill forced the wash of goose bumps over every inch of my body, a frisson of excitement came. Just one step, and I'll go crashing down to the open arms of the busy traffic. I was the only one on the roof, hence, no one would be blamed for my death, for it would be ruled as suicide. At least I won't be a nuisance after death, but would I be missed? Of course, by over five hundred Metropolitan City citizens, not including my family, and perhaps more from other cities all over the world.

Suicide felt like the easiest solution to most miserable of situations. Certainly, at first it would feel like that. It would create an illusion, a believable one where you see all your worries perfectly taken care of, at least that's before you actually attempt it. In my case, jump.

I did it once. I jumped. Tried it in my final year in high school. When I was all fat and awkward and fully bullied by a group of five imbeciles. Suicide was my answer, but even the heaven rejected me and here I am, twenty years later, at the ripe age of thirty six standing once more at the edge of the roof of a much higher building. My building.

Imagining to re-act the darkest days of my teenage years. I could still clearly remember the feelings of fear, hate, regret and weakness all entangled in one, how those feelings threatened to strangle me before I actually made contact to the coal tarred floor that awaited my impact. I could still feel the unapologetic and boastful pierces of the wind that slashed through me as I fell, and most of all, the faces of the ones that pushed me, those that forced me into choosing to end my life. It was still fresh as if it didn't happen two decades ago.

I took a deep icy breath in and exhaled, then lifted my leg slowly towards the emptiness. One more inch and I would lose balance and fall to my demise. This time, I'm sure the heavens would acknowledge my arrival. Then, I was a well bashed child with a broken neck, nose, arm, and ribs. Then, I was a debased teenager with a swollen cheek, eyes and lips and a dead soul, however now I'm the CEO of a multinational Empire. I'm a Billionaire Empress, and a few days ago I was awarded the most successful Entrepreneur of the year and the most influential woman in the year 2026. Therefore, the heavens must react to my death. But not today. I balanced myself and jumped backwards.

Then, although I was in pain, I was foolish, but now I'm not. There was no way I would kill myself, not without seeing those five as miserable as I was back then. I stepped into my fifty thousand dollar black heels and straightened my more expensive luxury burgundy coat. There is something I do yearly. I set a plan, work on it and achieve it by the end of the year. My award was not gotten by luck. No, I worked for it and made sure I deserved it. The second award was just and icing on the cake. A smile creeped into my perfectly pampered face, I'm an obsessive achiever. A trait that has been extremely beneficial to me so far, and I was going to utilise that ability.

Oh, they would pay dearly. They would regret they made it into 2027 and that was a promise.

That is my new year's resolution.