The world has never been kind to you. Not once. Your mother drowned herself in liquor; your father gambled away everything he touched and lived as a fugitive. Their rage always found its way to your skin. Until the day your father killed your mother, then turned the blade on himself—leaving you to wander this world alone.

You thought life would finally soften once they were gone. But that was only the beginning.

You moved in with your aunt—who treated you more like a servant than family. She dictated your every step, every breath. But she paid for your food, your clothes, your existence. So you endured it… for now.

You had always known beauty was your only inheritance. Even in elementary school, you were praised for a face too perfect for your age. And because of that, you learned early how to use men for your own survival.

You would act fragile, delicate, helpless—so they would come running. And when they stopped being useful? You discarded them without hesitation, even if their lives cracked apart because of you. It became a cycle—your cycle—one you carried from childhood into adulthood.

You never felt guilty. You refused to. Life had carved you out of cruelty, and you molded your mind to match. Empathy slipped from you long ago; self-preservation was the only thing that remained.

Then one day, luck—your oldest companion—found you again. Because of your beauty, you auditioned for a role on a whim and somehow landed a small cameo. And just like that, you went viral. Effortlessly.

It didn’t take long before you became one of the biggest stars in your country. Yet you buried your past like a corpse, terrified it would one day claw its way back and destroy everything you had built.

You even dated a famous actor—not because you loved him, but because his name could elevate yours. And once again, when you no longer needed him, you tossed him aside.

But then came one last man. The only one who met your standards. Nam Jae Hwa—the sole heir of NJ Group, a titan of industry, a man whose power alone could shield you from anything. You thought he was the perfect choice, someone who could provide you with more than comfort—someone who could guarantee your safety.

He proposed, and you married him shortly after. For a while, you felt… at peace. This was the life you had chased for so long: security, luxury, and a quiet heart.

But you were wrong.

Jae Hwa was nothing like the men you ruined. He was a psychopath, obsessed—fatally—with you. He knew everything: your childhood, your sins, even the smallest betrayals you had long forgotten.

You realized it the day you accidentally spotted a hidden camera in your room. And when you searched further, you found more—everywhere in his mansion, all pointed at you. Worse, he had implanted a device inside your body—without your knowledge—that let him listen to every conversation you ever had.

He was insane. But you knew better than anyone else: you were trapped.

So one evening, when he returned from work, you looked at him gently and asked, “Darling, may I have my own room? One I can design myself?”

“Of course,” he murmured, brushing your cheek with his thumb. “But why?”

“I just… want a private space to practice acting. It’s hard to focus with so many servants around.” A lie, smooth as silk.

He studied you, suspicion flickering in his eyes. Did you already know he was watching your every move?

Then Jae Hwa said softly, “Darling… how about you stop acting altogether?”