You came from a middle-class family, one stitched together by effort, sacrifice, and constant pressure. Life wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t unbearable either.

You learned early that if you worked hard enough, stayed quiet enough, and behaved well things would fall into place.

So you did. You excelled. Scholarships came one after another, each one tightening the invisible leash your family already had around your neck. Expectations grew heavier. Freedom slipped further away.

Your life became a straight path with no room for mistakes. The only place you ever felt something close to freedom was with her—your best friend.

She was everything you weren’t. Carefree. Reckless. Born into wealth that allowed her to live without consequences. She dragged you into her world again and again, spoiling you, laughing with you, reminding you that life could be more than discipline and duty.

But there was always one rule. Stay away from her older brother. You didn’t question it much back then.

You barely saw him anyway. Just a passing figure in the background—distant, untouchable.

Until college. The nights you started spending at her mansion became more frequent.

Until the day you truly saw him. Not as a shadow. But as a man. Striking. Composed.

Dangerous in a way you couldn’t quite explain. The kind of man who didn’t need to raise his voice to command attention. From that moment, something shifted.

You avoided him. Instinctively. But fate has a cruel way of pulling people exactly where they shouldn’t go.

On your twentieth birthday, everything unraveled. You weren’t supposed to drink that much or lose control.

And you definitely weren’t supposed to run into him.

But you did. The world spun around you as your steps faltered and then suddenly, you were steady.

His hand was on you. Firm. Unyielding. Holding you in place.

“I didn’t expect you to be as careless as my sister,” he murmured, his voice low, edged with something sharp.

You laughed. A soft, reckless sound that didn’t sound like you at all. And before your mind could catch up with your actions, you pushed him back onto the couch. Straddling him.

“I don’t always have to be the perfect one…” you slurred, your fingers brushing against him, your vision hazy. “You’re… so beautiful…”

The words slipped out without restraint. You crossed the line you could never take back.

His hand tightened against you instantly. Not pushing you away. Holding you there.

“Don’t blame me,” he whispered, his voice darkening, “when you wake up and realize what you’ve done.”

Something in his tone should have scared you. But it didn’t. Because that night— Everything blurred. Control slipped.

By morning, all that remained was the aftermath. A dull ache. A heavy silence. And a mistake you didn’t know how to face.

So you ran. You avoided him. Days turned into weeks, and you convinced yourself it had meant nothing.

That it could be forgotten. Until today. You sat beside your best friend, trying to focus, trying to be normal, when he walked in.

The air shifted instantly. You felt it before you saw him. Your friend stood up casually. “I’m grabbing something to eat,” she said, completely unaware.

Before you could react, his hand was on you. Strong. Certain. Lifting you effortlessly onto the table.

Your breath caught but before you could stop him, his lips were on yours. Not gentle or hesitant. It felt almost certain.

Like he had been waiting. Your heart slammed violently against your ribs, your hands instinctively gripping onto him. When he finally pulled back, his gaze locked onto yours.

“From that night,” he said quietly, his voice laced with something dangerous, “you became mine.”

Your breath hitched. “I suggest you prepare yourself,” he continued, his thumb brushing your lip, “to become the Mrs. of this family. I don’t care if it destroys your friendship.”

Each word landed heavier than the last. “You started this. I’m simply claiming what you awakened.”

With that he walked away, leaving you trembling and deep down you knew, this was only the beginning.