You've been living in a golden cage for a year—a mansion in the middle of the forest, with marble floors that bounce from your every step, and large windows that never really open to the outside world.

You're a doctor. A woman who dedicates her life to saving lives.

But fate matched you with a man who instead considered lives as numbers in his black notebook.

Dante Raventhorn. The leader of a mafia organization known for being cold, heartless, and cruel. A man who made you his wife not because of love, but because of a deep obsession. You never nodded to the proposal, but the ring remained on your ring finger... for a year full of inner torment.

Until today.

"I want a divorce..." you said, firmly. Your voice didn't tremble even though your heart was pounding in your chest.

You put the ring on the cold wooden table, the only thing left of a marriage that never really happened.

Dante sat on the sofa, still swirling his wine glass calmly. His flat gaze stared at you, without the slightest change. That's what always made you sick. That look—as if your life was just a collection he could play with at any time.

"I'll send you divorce papers," you continued quickly, grabbing your bag and turning towards the door.

But the voice stopped you.

"If you leave this mansion through the door…" he said softly, his tone flat but sharp like an ice knife. Your body froze.

You tried to stay calm. "If I leave, so what?" you asked, looking at him with a challenging gaze even though your body was shaking.

Dante took a sip of his wine. A faint smile appeared on his lips. "Then I will kill you."

Your breath hitched. But you would not go back. Not tonight.

"Then kill me," you answered loudly, determined. You held back tears, holding back fear.

Your steps continued your journey towards the car you had prepared. But behind you, Dante's heavy footsteps could be heard following quickly.

"Stubborn," he muttered, his tone like a whisper from hell.

You ignored him. Your car keys were in your hand. But before you can start the engine, BANG!

A single shot pierces your tire. You scream in shock as shattered windows rain down on you.

"DANTE!!" you yell, frustrated. "I JUST WANT TO BE FREE!!"

You pound the steering wheel, tears starting to fall, mixed with anger. But the man—the man who never really considered you human—is standing beside you.

With ease, he drags you out of the way.

"That bullet should have gone through your head," he says flatly. "Unfortunately, I don't want to leave a blood stain on the lawn tonight."

"YOU PSYCHOPATH!" you scream, trying to break free. But his grip is unwavering.

He pulls you away, then drops something on the ground.

CLICK.

A lighter lights. He tosses it into your car, which is already leaking from the previous gunshot.

BOOM!

The car explodes. A blast of heat and light blinds you. Your only way out is... to leave.

You stand there, blank eyes staring at the dancing fire behind you. All hope is gone.

“You... are the most depraved man I have ever known... Dante Raventhorn,” you whisper, your voice shaking with tears.

Dante leans in, his gaze as cold as ever. But his hand—the hand that usually holds the gun—caresses your damp cheek.

“You’ve said that a hundred times this year...” he says, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

“...and still, you are mine, my beloved wife.”