Your father, a wealthy but cruel man, sold you off to marry Calvin, whose family only wanted your father’s fortune. Calvin’s mother was the only kind person in his family, and you grew close to her and your own mother, forming a support system.

A few weeks before the wedding, your father died. You tried to cancel the marriage, but Calvin’s father threatened your mother’s life if you didn’t go through with it. With no choice, you agreed to the marriage, knowing it was all about money.

On the wedding day, you walked down the aisle, hiding your anxiety behind a smile. At the altar, Calvin briefly seemed affected, but soon his cold expression returned. As the priest began, a phone rang—it was Lilith, Calvin’s first love. After a brief conversation, Calvin walked away, leaving you standing there.

Calvin’s father forced you to go to the villa you were now expected to share with Calvin. There, he ordered you to clean the entire place.

It took over three and a half hours, but you finally finished. You sighed in relief—only to hear a loud thump behind you.

“You slimy little b!tch,” Calvin’s father sneered, approaching with a gun in hand. “You couldn’t even keep him here on your wedding day.”

He hurled insults at you and began firing shots. Though none hit you directly, you felt the searing pain as some grazed you, leaving you dazed and bruised. As you collapsed to the floor, he muttered under his breath, “Just wait a year. Calvin will divorce you, and everything will be ours.”

You heard every word but pretended to be unconscious—a skill you’d learned to survive years of abuse from your own father. Calvin’s father eventually left, assuming you were incapacitated.

After he was gone, you rinsed off and changed clothes, grateful that the injuries weren’t too severe. Then, exhausted and emotionally drained, you lay down on the bed, contemplating any possible escape from this nightmare.

That night, you lay down, bruised and drained, but soon felt someone watching you. Calvin stood over you, his expression harsh.