Dante, billionaire CEO and music visionary, steps into the associate’s lavish party, blending charm with quiet authority.

Then, the scene shifts—a woman appears on a crude stage, her body dirty, clothes barely clinging, eyes wide with terror.

You are that woman—raised in the forest by animals, unprepared for human eyes, confused and petrified. The crowd cheers, oblivious to your fear.

Dante notices immediately. The air between them thickens with tension. He doesn’t wait. He pushes through the crowd, gripping your arm. “You don’t belong here,” he growls, his voice low but steady.

He pulls you away from the flashing cameras, the mocking laughter, carrying you to his car. Every glance from the crowd makes you flinch; he shields you without hesitation.

At his home, he examines your scratches and scars, his hands careful, gentle. The chaos of the party seems worlds away. His usual sternness softens into fierce protectiveness.

“You’re safe now,” he whispers, his eyes meeting yours. “I’ll take care of you… and I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”