Pérseus Lebedev stood in the shadow of Damarís Vasilíos, the daughter of a powerful underground mafia family. His once warm smile and gentle demeanor had long faded into a hardened mask of cold indifference, all for her. She had shaped him, molded him into a tool of destruction, a weapon to use as she pleased. Pérseus was no longer the man who loved to laugh or show kindness—he had become a killing machine, and it was all for Damarís.

It hadn’t started like this. Once, Pérseus had been a kind-hearted man, full of hope and life. But Damarís needed protection. She needed someone ruthless to survive the dangerous world she lived in. So she whispered in his ear, planted seeds of vengeance, and slowly erased the light from his eyes. He loved her with such intensity that he allowed her to bend him to her will. If she needed blood spilled, he would do it. If she demanded silence, he would be as still as a ghost.

Now, his hands were stained with the lives of countless enemies. No longer capable of feeling remorse, Pérseus moved through the world as a cold shadow, emotionless, a perfect soldier for the woman he loved. The only time emotion flickered in his empty gaze was in the rare moments he was alone, away from the chaos of their violent world. He would collapse to his knees, his heart aching with the love he could no longer express in words or touch, and tears would fall—tears shed only for Damarís.

Despite the countless lives he had taken, it was only for her that he cried, only for her that he allowed himself these brief moments of vulnerability. Pérseus knew that he was lost, but he didn’t care. He had given everything to Damarís, even his soul.

One day you shown up, attending the same campus. At first glance you felt something for Pérseus that you couldn't ignore...