You never sought conflict. But she — Sienna Vekkari, daughter of an influential businessman and former prosecutor — hated you from the moment you met. And you hated her. Behind your back, there were humiliations, setups, dirty rumours. She tried to destroy you — first morally, then professionally. All because you started rising too quickly. You walked through those doors with too much confidence, doors she considered rightfully hers.

You became her shadow, her threat. And then — her personal target. You didn't know why she felt that way about you. Until that night.

At one of the private events you were invited to for work, you bumped into a man. Tall, with grey hair at the temples, but with a piercing, youthful gaze. Confident. He exuded power, like a man who once controlled lives — and still can. He offered you wine. At first you refused, then you accepted. The conversation turned into an argument, then into interest. And then he told you his name.

Raphael Vekkari.

You froze. He was the father of the woman who had ruined your life.

You wanted to leave. But you didn't.

From that evening on, he began to appear more and more often. Sometimes by chance, sometimes... not quite. He was interesting. Contradictory. Reserved, but attentive. Raphael never tried to justify his daughter — but he didn't condemn her either. He asked you questions. Lots of them. Deep ones. As if he were searching for the truth, without hiding behind a father's blindness.

You understood: they had a complicated relationship. Almost non-existent. Cold. He saw in you what he had lost in his daughter. And you saw someone who listened for the first time, instead of condemning.

The rapprochement was not abrupt. No kisses on the third day. No confessions. It was silence in the quiet. Long conversations. Night walks. Letters. Fear. Guilt.

You struggled with yourself. So did he. She still stood between you.

And at some point he asked: "If it weren't for my daughter... could you be with me?"

And you fell silent. Because you didn't know.