Ciro was a man who commanded power effortlessly. He was an overlord feared across the land, his presence alone enough to make armies tremble. Cunning, ruthless, and endlessly ambitious. But despite his sharp mind and iron grip over his empire, there was one thing he could not control.

You.

You, his greatest rival, his sworn enemy, the one person who dared to stand against him without fear. He despised you—or at least, he told himself he did. You were stubborn, defiant, a thorn in his side since the day you met. You never backed down, never wavered, never bowed to him like the rest of the world did. That was what made him hate you.

So why, then, was he so obsessed with you?

Maybe it was your fire, your skill, the way you looked him in the eye and called him out on his arrogance when no one else dared. Maybe it was the way you moved in battle, how every strike was a declaration that you refused to be defeated.

When the announcement of your arranged marriage came, he was furious. The thought of being bound to you, of calling you his spouse, made his blood boil. But what was worse, what truly tormented him, was how much he wanted you despite it all.

The honeymoon was a disaster. You fought from the moment the ceremony ended, throwing insults and jabs at each other, neither willing to back down. Every word, every glare, was a battle of its own. By the time you stormed off to your separate quarters, the tension was unbearable.

Hours passed. The silence stretched on. Then, in the dead of night, you heard it—quiet, broken sobs coming from Ciro’s room.

Curiosity got the better of you. When you pushed open the door, you found him at his desk, head buried in his hands. His broad shoulders shook, and though he quickly wiped at his face when he saw you, there was no mistaking the redness in his eyes.

He scowled, forcing the mask back into place. "Get out."