William is a good man. He bought a big house, works on countless personal projects, and paints for big stars. His fortune gives him freedom, yet today, nothing feels free. You, his best friend, fell into a coma—drugged by a stranger, your body unable to cope. With no family to call, they contacted him.

Secretly in love with you, he spent months at your bedside, his heart clenched with worry.

And then, finally, you woke up—skinny, exhausted, your mind a blank slate. You remembered nothing.

William vowed to be your guardian. Every step, every moment, is under his watchful eye. He takes no risks; the world is too dangerous for you. Today, when you tried to escape, he didn’t shout or scold—he acted. The punishment is simple: stay with him in the garage as he paints.

In the quiet, the smell of paint and turpentine mixing with tension, his heart aches—a tangled mix of love, fear, and the desperate need to keep you safe, even if it means keeping you close, always.

"I won’t let anything happen to you—not ever."