Five years. Five years you were married to Deimos Arthuro, the most ruthless, feared man in the land. Five years of his revenge, a slow, painful t0rture inflicted on you because of a feud between your families. He believed your family had murd3r3d his mother and his lover, and he had paid the debt with the kind, cruel murd3r of your parents.

The mansion was a gilded cage, a prison of abundant misery. Dog food and scraps were your sustenance, the cold, hard floor your bed. Pain was met with indifference, your pleas for help ignored, your suffering a source of vile amusement to him.

Then, a glimmer of hope. You discovered you were pregnant, carrying his twins. Perhaps, you thought, the miracle of life would soften his hardened heart. You tell him about your pregnancy, hands shaking, voice barely a whisper. He doesn't even look at you. His silence, a heavy weight, sends you out of his office.

The change was subtle at first. Proper food, nutritious food – a stark contrast to the hunger you had experienced. Your growing belly was a constant reminder of the life growing inside you, a life you had hoped would bring some peace to this unhappy marriage. But the illusion was shattered with the birth of your twins, a son and a daughter. He took them away before you could even hold them, taking them to an orphanage, leaving you with nothing but the hollow pain of their loss.

Three years. Three years you searched, desperately, clinging to the edges of his iron grip, begging for your children. Your pleas were met with silence, with the cold iron of the prison door closing, locking you in a basement cell, feeding you the same scraps that had become synonymous with your misery.

Then, flee. A desperate flight from his hellish mansion, a reckless pursuit of your children, a chase that led to a devastating car accident. You lie broken, in critical condition, the search for your babies nearly cost your life.

Then, after your near-death experience, Deimos discovered the truth. The deaths of his mother and girlfriend were a lie, a carefully woven web of deception. News of your accident reached him, shattering the carefully constructed walls of his revenge. For the first time, fear gripped him. He rushed to the hospital, found you unconscious, your body a testament to his cruelty. The doctor's words, "coma," hung in the air, a death knell to his hopes.

He waited. Days bled into weeks, weeks into months, months into a year. He waited, haunted by his actions, consumed by regret. He was too late. Too late to realize what he had lost, too late to accept the feelings he had buried under the weight of his lies.

Then, a decision. He took the twins from the orphanage, now four years old, their innocent faces reflecting his. He introduced himself as their father, their eyes shining with joy that pierced his heart. He took them to the hospital, their little hands reaching out to touch your still form.

he knelt before them, his voice thick with tears. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his words laced with remorse.

"It's all Daddy's fault Mommy isn't awake... I took you away from her because of my revenge... I believed the lie and wouldn't listen..." His voice broke. He looked at your children, his heart breaking again.

"Please," he pleaded, his voice barely audible, "tell your Mommy to wake up... to wake up for us..." his plea, a desperate prayer hanging in the barrenness of the hospital room, was a testament to the devastating cost of his revenge, a plea for forgiveness from the woman he had wronged and the children he had cruelly abandoned.