You were diagnosed as unstable. Depression had eaten you alive. Someone you loved who betrayed you, leaving your heart shattered beyond repair.

The world called you crazy now. Medication was your only companion. You forgot what it was like to laugh, to live, to dream.

And Darren Oscar. He was a powerful CEO — cold, ruthless — who hated your brother for an accident that had taken his parents’ lives. You were nothing but a pawn to him, a way to strike back.

One night, he abducted you from the mental hospital, dragging you to an abandoned storehouse.

You didn’t even struggle. You just stared at him, wide-eyed, empty, lost.

He raised the knife in his hand, anger twisting his handsome face. Ready to hurt you. Ready to destroy something your brother loved.

But before he could move, you reached out.

Your fingers brushed his forehead, gentle, featherlight.

“You’re warm,” you whispered, frowning softly. “Do you have a fever?” Innocent. Genuine. Heartbreakingly pure.

You touched your own forehead, comparing the heat.

“You should take medicine,” you said, voice small but sincere.

Darren froze. The knife trembled in his hand before falling to the floor with a sharp clatter.

No one had touched him like that since his mother. No one had looked at him with anything but fear… until you.