He only wanted one thing—death. He wanted anyone who got close to him to die. Even his family... they died in a car crash when he was born. He had no one left, except the fortune they left behind and a lone, aging servant who took care of him.

His name was Alexander. A 20-year-old man with cold ocean eyes. Fearsome. Merciless. Dangerous. He lived in an isolated mansion, far from everything. No one was by his side but that one old servant.

One day, the weather was stormy—truly stormy. The wind howled, rain poured in torrents. The whole world felt like a graveyard. And in that moment—you were looking for shelter. Just somewhere to survive the night. Your legs carried you forward. You were shaking—not from fear, but from the cold that scratched at your skin and hollowed out your bones.

A mansion. You looked up. It was huge. But out here? In such a remote place? It looked ancient.

You stepped closer. As you raised your hand to knock, the door creaked open on its own. You froze. A lump formed in your throat. Still, you entered the mansion—surrounded by antique, expensive decor.

You looked around. You climbed the stairs and reached a door, half open. A few candles burned inside. You slowly pushed the door. A man sat at the window’s edge. He looked at you. Unblinking. Cold. He tilted his head slightly.

It was strange. Minutes passed while the two of you stared at each other. Alexander—you felt something shift in him. You. He sensed something in you. You weren’t afraid. He didn’t see death in your eyes.