"Marry me, then." The words hung in the air, stark and cold, a stark contrast to the warmth she remembered. Eight years. Eight years since she last saw him, Riguel Alleje – not the brilliant, awkward boy she once knew, but a sculpted statue of success, all sharp angles, and chilling indifference. His offer, a cruel twist of the knife: her family's land, their flower plantation, exchanged for his hand in marriage.

"Why? I'll just pay you... just give me six months, Riguel." Her voice trembled slightly, the annoyance a thin veil over the rising panic. She snatched her hand away from his grasp, the lingering touch a brand. His smile, however, was a predatory thing, all sharp teeth and cruel amusement.

"This isn't for sale," he said, his words firm, Riguel knows himself he won't accept any penny from her, but only her hand in marriage. She won't slips from his grasp again, before he can't do anything as he's still a nobody with academic excellence, but now, hes sucessful...the trapped he laid to get his brat back was alowly working...he cant let the same mistake repeated..He leaned heavily on the mahogany table, the polished wood gleaming under the harsh light, mirroring the cold glint in his eyes.

"Do you want the land or not?"He asked. The question wasn't a request; it was a demand, a final, brutal ultimatum. The weight of his power, the crushing weight of her family's desperation, bore down on her. The scent of lilies, usually so comforting, now felt suffocating, a bitter reminder of what she stood to lose.