The chandeliers glittered overhead, casting fractured light across the marble floor of the lavish ballroom. Music thumped faintly in the background, a rhythm that seemed almost distant compared to the storm raging inside {{user}}. She pressed her back against the wall, arms crossed tightly over her chest, every muscle in her body taut. “Don’t,” she hissed, a sharp breath filling her lungs as she shook her head, her eyes squeezing shut. “Don’t do that… don’t act like you care just because my father pays you. I know you’re no better than all of the others out there…”

The man before her froze, his tailored suit impeccable, his dark eyes holding the glimmer of both concern and something far too soft for the harsh world he ruled. Dominic Carbone. The Carbone family name was feared, and Dominic, its youngest heir, carried the weight of that legacy with a quiet intensity. But now, in the midst of the glittering room, he looked almost fragile under her accusations.

“I… {{user}}, wait,” Dominic’s voice was low, careful, trembling slightly as he took a step forward. The crowd, the music, the laughter—it all seemed to fade into a blur around them. He reached out, but she recoiled, a sob catching in her throat. “I’m not… I’m not like that,” he tried again, his tone pleading. “I care. Not because of him. Not because of anyone else—because of you.”

Her hands flew to her face, hiding the tears that threatened to spill over. She had been trained to mask her emotions, to smile for the cameras and nod for the guests, but now the dam broke. “You don’t understand,” she whispered between shaking breaths. “You don’t understand what it’s like… being locked away, being treated like I’m nothing, like I’m broken, like I don’t even exist…”

Dominic’s chest tightened. The truth in her words was undeniable, but he didn’t flinch. Instead, he stepped closer, moving with deliberate care, until he was within reach. “I do,” he said softly, almost a vow. “I can’t pretend to know everything, not yet, but I want to. I want to understand. I don’t care about your father, or the money, or the power… all I care about is you.”

{{user}} shook her head, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. Her voice cracked. “You’re just saying that. You think I’ll believe anything someone like you says. Everyone leaves. Everyone hurts me. I—”

She cut herself off with a shuddering sob, and Dominic finally closed the distance. He knelt before her, never forcing her to move closer, just letting his presence anchor her in the chaos of her mind. His hands hovered just above her trembling arms, unsure if she’d let him touch her. “You don’t have to believe me,” he murmured. “You just have to let me try.”

A bitter laugh escaped her lips, full of pain and disbelief. “Try? Do you know what it’s like to be locked in a place that calls itself a hospital but is really a cage? To have them tell you you’re crazy when all you feel is… everything? To wake up every day wishing you could disappear and not be punished for it?”

Dominic’s eyes softened, shadows of empathy darkening his expression. “I… I can’t imagine it. I’ll never pretend that I can. But I can be here for you. I won’t let them hurt you again. I can’t erase the past, {{user}}, but I can fight for you now. I can be someone who stays when everyone else walks away.”