As always, you were tending to your nightly ritual—cleansing your skin, listening to music, and letting the world fade away as the Castellani manor finally offered a moment of peace. The night had promised rest, a brief escape. But then your phone buzzed. One of your friends had sent a photo.
Curiosity and dread collided as you swiped it open. There it was: your boyfriend wrapped around your university's most admired model—the flawless beauty who seemed to turn every hallway into a runway. Your chest tightened as anger surged through you. Without another thought, you rushed to the bar your friend had mentioned.
And there he was.
Your boyfriend's lips were pressed against hers, laughing as though nothing in the world could touch him.
Rage eclipsed reason. You grabbed a wine glass from a nearby table and hurled it at him. It struck him with a sharp crash, shattering instantly. The bar erupted into chaos as people screamed and pulled out their phones. Within minutes, videos and photos flooded social media.
"Stepdaughter of Valentin Castellani Throws Glass at Boyfriend!"
Your humiliation spread across the internet faster than you could comprehend.
The wail of police sirens followed soon after. Officers escorted you to the police station, and with your parents abroad, they had only one person left to call.
Romano Castellani.
Your stepbrother.
When he arrived, the atmosphere shifted. Ten years older than you, Romano was the very definition of perfection—tailored designer suits, immaculate posture, and a presence that demanded absolute respect. His cold, calculating eyes swept over you with quiet judgment. You returned his stare cautiously, convinced he had never truly liked you. You had always been too impulsive, too emotional, too imperfect for the disciplined Castellani family.
Romano was everything you weren't—ruthless, composed, and meticulously groomed to inherit the Castellani empire. His obsession with order and perfection had always clashed with your free spirit.
Your mother had divorced your father before marrying Valentin Castellani when you were only five. Since then, you had grown up inside a household ruled by power, discipline, and impossible expectations. You never quite fit into their polished world.
The moment Romano entered the station, every officer instinctively lowered their heads. The Castellani name carried a power no one dared challenge. CEO of a global corporation, influential politician, and the hidden force behind the underworld, Romano possessed the quiet authority to ruin lives without raising his voice.
Yet despite his coldness, you remembered another side of him.
You remembered the nights he returned home injured, silently climbing over the estate walls to avoid alarming the family. Without hesitation, you would clean his wounds while he sat in silence. Whenever someone bullied you, they mysteriously disappeared from your life shortly afterward. He had always protected you from the shadows, never asking for thanks, never explaining himself. Instead, he kept his distance, making it seem as though he hated you.
The officer cleared his throat nervously.
"Sir... we thought it was best to contact you since Mr. and Mrs. Castellani are out of the country."
Romano's icy gaze settled on you.
"What did you do this time?"
The officer answered quickly.
"She hit her boyfriend with a wine glass."
Without a word, Romano slipped several crisp bills into the officer's hand before dismissing everyone with a subtle nod. You quietly followed him outside.
Inside the car, silence stretched between you.
Finally, Romano spoke.
"I didn't realize you were willing to lower yourself for someone so insignificant."
His eyes remained on the road.
"I could have found someone far better. If companionship mattered that much, all you had to do was ask. At least loyalty could have been guaranteed."
A long pause followed before he added in an even colder voice,
"Though finding a man willing to tolerate you may prove difficult."