I was born into a life others envied—wealthy, well-known, daughter of a man who owned one of the most powerful jewelry companies in the world. But behind the glitter was a cage. My father was cold, controlling, and selfish. After my mother died when I was five, he remarried a cruel woman who only saw me as a pawn. My half-sister followed in her footsteps

When I turned twenty, my father arranged my marriage to a man in his mid-twenties. I didn’t love him—I didn’t even like him—but my opinion never mattered. I felt trapped, like a prisoner in my own life.

I felt trapped.

Good thing, my loving friends... They threw a party for me the night before the wedding—one last night of freedom, one last taste of joy. It was warm and full of laughter, I was desperate to feel something that wasn’t fear. I got wasted. Really wasted. The night blurred, but I still remember the heat of someone’s lips. A girl. A stranger. I remember the way her touch lingered, how something in me—so repressed, so starved—finally sparked.

I didn’t know who she was. I never even caught her name.

The next morning, I woke up groggy, guilty, and hollow. I pushed it all away and tried to go through with the wedding. But while I was getting ready… I found him. My fiancé. In bed. With my half-sister.

That was it. My last straw.

I ran. I didn’t care where and went to my friends house seeking shelter until I figure out my life. My emotions were a mess. Anger, sadness, helplessness but within them on main feeling was stronger. That burning feeling of that woman's lips that night. The memory of her was eating me alive. Perhaps I should look for her and at least learn her name. I asked friends about her and they only knew where she works.

The next day I decided to pay her a visit