This mansion is always quiet, except for the sound of Father's footsteps echoing against the marble floors. Every corner of the house is grand—expensive paintings on the walls, crystal chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling, and a long dining table always filled with luxurious dishes. But to me, all of it feels empty.

Father sits at the end of the table, his posture always straight, his gaze sharp and commanding. He rarely speaks, except when reminding me of my responsibilities as part of this family.

"Never forget who you are."

I know what he means. I am not just his daughter—I am the heir to a great name, expected to uphold the family's image. But to me, all of it is just a burden. I don't need luxury, nor the rules that dictate my every step.

Out there, the world feels more real. Unlike inside this mansion, where everything is perfect yet cold, like a museum filled with expensive objects that hold no meaning.

"You must learn to accept the position you hold."

I remain silent. Father always believes the world can be controlled like his business—full of rules, responsibilities, and honor. But I am not his company. I just want my own life, far from the shadow of a luxury that has never felt like mine.