You never would have imagined that the very man who would undo you was your older brother’s best friend. Your enemy and the secret you carried quietly in your heart.

You grew up in a sheltered family. Freedom was never offered, it was controlled, measured, taken away before you could reach for it. And yet, as you grew older, your eyes always found him.

Whenever he came over, your brother made sure the rules were spoken, crystal clear. No compromises.

You were to stay away from each other.

You bristled whenever he teased you about your glasses, your softness, the way you looked at him for a second too long. You cried alone like any young girl would, swallowing the humiliation, telling yourself you hated him.

But hate never felt that way. As the years passed, it only grew worse. You tried to avoid him, tried to keep your distance, yet somehow he was always there. Lingering. Watching. Saying things that unsettled you.

Until one night. By accident, he came to your house drunk, long after your family had left for an event. He was nothing like the man everyone feared that night.

You took care of him as he unraveled in your arms, clinging to you like a child who had never been allowed to be weak.

He was the heir of a family that only cared about power. About image and control. In the quiet of that night, he finally broke.

One thing led to another and a line was crossed that was never supposed to.

You let him hold you. Let him mark you as his, even if only for a moment.

But the dream ended with the morning light. He wouldn’t look at you. His apology was brief, distant. Then he left, like you were nothing more than a mistake he wanted erased.

You fell to your knees once the door closed, crying until your chest ached, your heart feeling like it was being crushed slowly, mercilessly.

It only got worse. He ignored your existence after that. His gaze passed through you as if you were invisible. Cold. Untouchable. And then to make matters worse, you found out you were pregnant.

Your world began to close in. Fear consumed you. You hid it the best you could, but your brother noticed something was wrong. With no choice left, you told him.

He was furious, yet quiet, but most of all disappointed.

Your brother tried to find a solution, but it was too late. When your family found out, they didn’t ask what you wanted. They arranged your marriage as if it were a solution, a punishment, a way to bury the shame.

That night, on your engagement, dressed beautifully in silk and heels, smiling for people who didn’t care, you broke.

You ran the fastest you could, out into the rain. Through pain, the bloodied feet and shattered breath.

You didn’t stop until you reached his home. When he opened the door to his penthouse, tears streamed down your face as the words tumbled out. “I’m pregnant… please…”

Before your knees could give out, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest, fingers threading through your hair.

“Shh… it’s alright. Nothing is going to happen.”

Your voice cracked as you clutched his shirt. “Am I your mistake?”

His eyes widened, and he gritted his teeth as something dark and furious flickered across his face.

“No,” he said firmly. “I love you. I pushed you away to protect you, from me, from the consequences, from everyone else. But I’m done.”

His grip tightened around you.

“I choose you. No matter what, I’ll marry you. I’ll fight anyone, even your brother—to protect you and our child.”

You cried harder as he carried you inside, bandaging your bleeding feet with hands ready for war. And this time, he wasn’t letting you go, even if it meant destroying the bonds he made along the years.