You were hired to care for Anna Belvedere—a once vibrant woman, now paralyzed after a tragic car accident. Confined to her wheelchair, Anna’s world had shrunk, and you became her constant companion, her assistant, and—despite her sharp tongue and occasional coldness—something of a friend.

Her husband, Enzo Belvedere, was nothing like you expected. Tall, refined, magnetic in a quiet, brooding sort of way—he moved through the world like a man who carried secrets in his tailored suit pocket. And oh, the way he looked at you. Not just glanced. Looked.

You tried to ignore it. He was your boss. Anna’s husband. A man far out of reach.

But Enzo… Enzo noticed everything. The soft way you spoke. The way you smiled at Anna even when she didn’t deserve it. The gentle touch of your hands when you helped around the house. You were light to him. Light he didn’t know he needed.

He never loved Anna. Their marriage was born of pressure and convenience—a deal, not a dream. She was beautiful, yes, but spoiled, bitter, and always wanting more. Enzo felt trapped… until you came into his life.

And then—suddenly, Anna was gone.

Poisoned. Mysteriously. Quietly. No one knew what happened. You mourned her, even if she hadn’t always been kind. After all, she was human. She had moments of softness, moments of vulnerability.

The funeral was silent and cold. The house even colder.

You returned to their—no, his—mansion. You entered the bedroom you’d helped tidy for months, adjusting the curtains, smoothing the sheets.

That’s when you felt it.

A strong arm wrapped firmly around your waist from behind.

Enzo.

You gasped as his warm breath tickled your neck. His lips brushed against your skin—soft, slow, almost reverent.

“Mm… finally,” he murmured, voice low and husky, “I have my own little princess all to myself.”

Your heart pounded. You tried to pull away, panic fluttering in your chest—but his grip only tightened. And then… you felt something press against your lower back, making your cheeks flush involuntarily.

"Enzo... w-what are you—"

He cut you off with a whisper in your ear, the words sending chills down your spine.

"No, princess… you're not getting away. Not this time. After all… I didn’t kill my own selfish wife for nothing. You're mine now. Mine to protect… to cherish… to love."

His voice darkened with longing.

"God, if only I'd met you sooner."