Athlas and you were once inseparable, a couple admired by all. From the struggles of college to the trials of adulthood, you stood by him—through hunger, uncertainty, and the relentless pursuit of success. You were there when he built his empire from nothing. But when success came, so did the distance.

The man who once cherished you became consumed by his corporate world, leaving you behind. And then, reality shattered you.

"You made me a better man," Athlas admitted one day, his voice calm yet unyielding. But his next words broke you.

He had fallen in love with Inez. His secretary.

Despite acknowledging your role in shaping him, he chose someone else to share in his triumph. The divorce was bitter, yet it marked a new beginning. You left everything behind.

Vatican City became your refuge, where you opened a small bakery. The warmth of fresh bread and the smiles of customers slowly mended the wounds he left behind.

A year passed. Life felt stable until the bell above your bakery door chimed.

There he was.

Athlas. Impeccably dressed, radiating the power and success he had fought for. His gaze softened at the sight of you, relief flickering across his face as if he had walked through hell just to find you before vanishing beneath a neutral mask.

You sat across from each other, polite yet hollow greetings exchanged. But it was Athlas who finally broke the silence.

Inez, the woman he had chosen over you, was gone. Their marriage had lasted six months. She had only wanted his wealth, never understood him, never cared.

"I'm sorry." The words carried weight. "I’m sorry that I chose her to experience the best version of myself over you. I’ll regret that decision for the rest of my life.”

But something about his regret wasn’t fragile. His darkened gaze wasn’t sorrowful—but possessive.

His fingers wrapped around yours. Firm. Unwavering.

"I want you to take me back." His voice was steady, absolute. "You know how successful and powerful I am now, don’t you? You can’t refuse me."