The day after I left the special forces, the wealthy Thorne family recognized me as their long-lost daughter.
My cloying stepsister, Seraphina Thorne, cut me off. Her gaze traveled slowly from my head to my toes, taking in every inch of my desert-toughened skin.
She wrinkled her nose, her voice a soft, almost pitying murmur.
“Sister, your tactical?physique isn’t quite the standard for beauty here.. From today on, I’ll join you at the gym.”
“A slender figure is essential for pretty gowns. Otherwise, how will you ever find a husband?”
I raised an eyebrow.
Were the fitness standards in high society this insane? My 18% body fat, which I maintained as a special forces operative, was considered “fat”?
Seraphina remained oblivious, cheerfully handing me a “sweat-it-out” weight loss class schedule.
A thirty-kilogram weighted cross-country run, five hundred push-ups, an hour of combat training, three hours of high-intensity workouts daily.
I couldn’t help but snort.
Wasn’t this just the absolute minimum for recovery training?
…
“What’s so funny?”
Seraphina whined delicately, about to press me for an answer.
That’s when our father, Richard Thorne, descended the grand staircase, immaculate in his suit.
“Father.”
Richard Thorne’s brows immediately furrowed when he saw me.
“Crude behavior is one thing, but you don’t even have a pretty face…”
He sized me up, his disapproval undisguised.
“Announcing your identity now would only bring shame upon our family name.”
I met his gaze, my mind a blank slate.
Honestly, his manufactured gravitas was less than a tenth of what my drill sergeant commanded back in basic training.
Ignoring the lengthy lecture he was clearly preparing to deliver, I looked him straight in the eye.
My voice was crisp and clear.
“Understood. Eight AM tomorrow. I’ll be there on time for training.”
My absolute obedience clearly caught them off guard.
Richard Thorne’s prepared tirade of admonishments instantly choked in his throat, neither coming out nor going back down.
Seraphina’s triumphant smile on her perfectly sculpted face also froze.
She pouted, letting out a dismissive huff.
“Such an act!”
At the dinner table, the atmosphere grew even stranger.
The long table was laden with an extravagant spread, yet Seraphina’s plate held only a few sad-looking pieces of salad.
She chewed daintily, her posture impeccable.
“Most accomplished young women know how to maintain their figure these days, sister,” she subtly jabbed, her voice dripping with passive aggression.
I paid her no mind, accurately calculating calories as per my military habit.
I piled my plate with ample portions of steak, seafood, and rice.
Muscle was critical for survival on the battlefield.
Without enough protein and carbs, the body was nothing more than an engine running on fumes.
“Oh my goodness!” Seraphina gasped dramatically. “Sister, you’re eating that much? No wonder…”
She trailed off, but her pointed gaze said it all.
Father’s frown deepened. He set down his fork and knife with a displeased clatter.
“No decorum whatsoever for a young lady! What an outrage!”
I didn’t respond, continuing to eat.
Inwardly, though, I decided I’d start cooking my own meals tomorrow.
While the food here was exquisite, it was far too oily and salty for my standards.
I needed fuel, not baggage.
Less than five minutes later, I finished the last bite on my plate, wiping my mouth with a napkin.
“I’m done.”
I rose from the table, preparing to leave the dining room.
Richard Thorne’s cold voice stopped me. “Hold it right there.”
I paused, turning back to him.
“Tomorrow’s training will be monitored by the butler. If you dare to slack off or try any tricks…”
I calmly cut him off. “Don’t worry. I’ve never resorted to such deceitful tactics.”
With that, I turned and walked away, ignoring the stunned expressions on both their faces.
The next day, I arrived punctually at the opulent private club.
The polished marble floors reflected my image, and the crystal chandeliers sparkled with brilliant light.
Looking around, I was reminded of crawling through mud and forced marches under the scorching desert sun, burdened with heavy gear.
To me, this place was practically a five-star spa.
Inside the club, Seraphina had already been waiting for a long time.
She wore a meticulously tailored Pilates outfit that perfectly accentuated her slender figure.
“Sister, you’re finally here. The coach has been waiting for ages; he’s notoriously strict.”
I nodded. “Good.”
The stricter, the better.
After all, a lenient general never forges a fierce army.
The coach soon made his entrance.
A towering, muscular man, over six feet tall, with a bronze complexion scarred and tattooed.
He introduced himself as a retired Marine.
Then, he swept his gaze over me, a hint of disdain in his eyes, before announcing today’s training regimen.
Thirty kilograms weighted run, at a speed above 15.
Five hundred standard push-ups, to be completed within a time limit.
One hour of freestyle combat.
With each item he announced, Seraphina’s eyes lit up a little more.
The combined intensity of these exercises was enough to make even a regularly fit adult man pass out on the spot.
She was clearly eager to see me collapse to the ground, crying and wailing in utter disarray.
She leaned in close, whispering conspiratorially, a smirk on her face.
“Sister, there are cameras everywhere, you know. Father will be watching your performance.”
I raised an eyebrow, a subtle smile playing on my lips.
I turned to the muscular coach, extending my hand. “Thank you for your hard work.”
“I appreciate having such professional facilities and supervision.”
The coach paused, then gave my hand a perfunctory shake.
I didn’t bother to explain further, simply started warming up my wrists and ankles.
A series of crisp clicks and pops echoed from my joints.
The training began.
For the thirty-kilogram weighted cross-country run, I pushed the treadmill to a speed that made its system error out.
For the five hundred push-ups, I completed them with one hand, my other hand even charging my phone.
For the hour of combat training, I disarmed and pinned the former Marine coach to the ground in just three minutes.
The coach lay on the floor, drenched in sweat, his face a mask of disbelief.
I stood up, not a single bead of perspiration on me.
“Is the warm-up finished?”
“When does the real training begin?”
Hearing this, Seraphina, who had been secretly touching up her makeup in front of the mirror, let out a sharp gasp as her powder compact slipped from her hand and shattered on the floor.
She spun around, staring at my completely unruffled appearance, stammering.
“Sister… were you in the Italian Mafia or something?”
The coach shakily picked himself up from the floor.
He looked at me as if I were some kind of deity.
“It’s already… it’s already over…”
I sighed in disappointment, shaking my head.
I walked to the nearby lounge area, tore off a club promotional flyer, and flipped it to the back.
I quickly scribbled down an application.
“Application. Double training intensity, extend duration to six hours.”
“Reason. Current program insufficient to activate muscles.”
“Applicant. Alexandria Thorne.”
I finished writing, preparing to hand the paper to the coach.
Just then, the gym door was pushed open by a young man in a sharp suit.
Seeing the newcomer, Seraphina’s lips curved into a pout.
Her body seemed to lose all strength, and she crumpled dramatically into Julian Maxwell’s arms.
“Julian… Brother Julian…”
She was on the verge of tears, her voice laced with a sob, “Sister forced me to train with her… I really can’t take it… it’s so hard…”
Julian Maxwell’s brows furrowed exactly as expected.
He steadied Seraphina, his eyes filled with reproach as he looked at me.
“Alexandria Thorne, isn’t it? I know you might have some resentment, but Seraphina is a victim too! She’s frail; what if something happens to her? Would you take responsibility?”
I couldn’t be bothered to argue with such illogical nonsense. I walked forward without a word.
I reached out and grabbed Seraphina by the back of her collar.
Like lifting a kitten, I plucked her out of Julian Maxwell’s arms and casually set her aside.
I rolled my eyes at her.
“Those superficial moves you were doing? You call that training? Stop blocking the way.”
Then, I handed the promotional flyer with my application to Julian Maxwell.
“Please pass this training adjustment plan to my father.”
By now, the coach had finally recovered from his immense shock.
He rushed over, speaking excitedly to Julian Maxwell.
“Mr. Maxwell, you’ve misunderstood! You’ve completely misunderstood!”
“Ms. Thorne is a military prodigy! I’m not fit to be her coach; she should be teaching me combat!”
Julian Maxwell frowned, instinctively glancing down at the flyer.
His eyes widened in sudden astonishment.
When he looked up again, the disdain was gone, replaced by a profound curiosity.
Seraphina, standing nearby, watched this scene unfold, her face alternating between green and white.
The hatred in her eyes was almost palpable.
She stomped her foot angrily, then burst into tears and ran out of the club.
That night, Seraphina came to my room.
“What exactly do you want?” she asked, her voice choked with tears.
I looked up, realizing her eyes were red and swollen from crying, making her look utterly vulnerable.
“Close the door.”
Seraphina paused, probably not expecting that reaction.
She sniffled but obediently closed the door.
“Alexandria, please, I beg you, don’t take Julian from me, okay?”
She began to sob.
“He’s the only one I have… I never had a mother, and while Father cares for me, he cares more about family interests. Only Julian is kind to me…”
I felt a pang of exasperation, first closing my laptop which still contained classified information.
“I don’t go for weaklings.”
Seraphina looked bewildered for a moment, not understanding my words.
I quirked a corner of my mouth, offering a smile that was far from friendly.
“Seraphina, what exactly is going on in your head?”
“A man like Julian Maxwell? I could knock out a dozen of his type with one punch. Marry him? Am I insane?”
Seraphina recoiled, shocked by my words.
“Your language is so crude! And girls aren’t supposed to be that strong… Don’t you understand anything?!”
The image of a true vs. fake heiress in her mind involved fighting to the death over a man, not me directly expressing utter disdain for him based on his physical prowess.
I stood up, taking deliberate steps toward her.
I was half a head taller than her, and the aura from years of intense training made her feel uncontrollably afraid.
“You think you’re pitiful for being dependent and having no one to rely on, but your most pitiful aspect isn’t your lack of support.”
My voice was cold, each word distinct.
“It’s that you’ve made fragility your only weapon, and you attempt to survive on the pity of others.”
“Do you really think everyone falls for that?”
Her face turned ashen, her lips trembling uncontrollably.
Yet, she still tried to retort, her chin jutted out defiantly.
“What do you know! Men like delicate girls! No one will ever like someone who’s all about fighting like you!”
A surge of irritation rose within me, and I was about to simply throw her out.
But then, the piercing fire alarm blared through the entire mansion without warning.
My expression changed. After a split second of shock, I instantly calmed.
Professional instinct drove me straight to the door. I yanked it open.
A wave of scorching heat, mixed with thick smoke, slammed into my face!
The hallway outside was already engulfed in raging flames!
Dense smoke was rapidly spreading upwards from downstairs, reducing visibility to almost zero.
My brain kicked into overdrive, running calculations in 0.1 seconds, plotting the optimal escape route.
Seraphina, seeing the inferno, let out a piercing shriek.
“Shut up!”
I roared at Seraphina, who was still screaming.
She flinched at my intensity, instantly falling silent, leaving only her trembling body.
“If you want to live, follow me!”
My brain had already analyzed the situation.
The fire originated downstairs and was spreading upwards. The smoke was toxic; we had to evacuate immediately via the emergency exit in the opposite direction.
Without a moment’s hesitation, I spun to the window and tore down the heavy velvet curtains.
I rushed into the bathroom and thoroughly soaked the curtains in the bathtub.
“Cover your nose and mouth!” I threw a wet piece of cloth at her.
Seraphina was still trembling, but the instinct for survival made her catch the wet cloth and hastily press it to her face.
I draped a larger wet cloth over myself, ready to pull her along.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the delicate lace stockings on her feet.
“Take them off!” I commanded sharply.
“You… why are you so mean…” she whimpered, frightened, but her body obediently started to shiveringly pull off her stockings.
Nylon and synthetic fibers melt rapidly under high heat, adhering to the skin and causing severe burns.
This was basic survival knowledge.
Unfortunately, she didn’t know it.
I grabbed her hand, crouching low, and rushed toward what I remembered as the emergency exit.
The hallway was filled with rolling smoke, and the temperature was terrifyingly high.
Seraphina, in her exquisite silk nightgown and soft slippers, ran less than twenty feet before she started panting, her strength failing.
“I… I can’t run anymore…”
Her legs gave out. Low blood sugar combined with extreme shock made her collapse to the ground, almost fainting.
“Do they starve you in this ‘elite’ family?”
I muttered under my breath. Time was critical; no time for pointless talk.
Without hesitation, I bent down and hoisted her onto my shoulder.
She was incredibly light, probably weighing less than ninety pounds.
To me, it was no different than carrying a field ration pack.
“Ahhh, Sister… are you even a woman?!”
Seraphina shrieked, utterly shocked.
“If you don’t want to die, shut up!”
I held her tight, my steps steady as I pushed through the inferno.
It was like a simple weighted cross-country run on the training ground.
The seldom-used back door was long piled high with clutter.
I swiftly kicked aside the debris and slammed my body against the locked back door.
In just three or four impacts, the lock was completely violently destroyed.
I kicked open the tightly shut back door, and a rush of fresh, cold air flooded in.
“Alright, we’re safe.”
I set Seraphina down outside the mansion, frowning as I looked back at the smoke-billowing house.
I wondered if there were any other victims who hadn’t escaped.
With that thought, I was about to rush back into the fire to save people, but Seraphina grabbed the hem of my shirt first.
“Alex, don’t leave me alone…”
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