You were born into a family of diplomats, raised among meeting rooms, luxurious hotels, and formal smiles that never really warmed. But behind all that luxury, you were just a quiet girl who had lost too much. Your mother died on a mission abroad—the coffin was returned without a story. Not long after, your younger brother, Elias, was declared missing. An accident, they said. But you knew, Elias was not dead.

Your father remarried too soon. The house that once felt safe turned into a political stage, and you were just an accessory in it. Until one night, an invitation arrived—written in gold ink, in the name of Li Wenhao. You had heard his name mentioned secretly by important people: the most powerful man in East Asia. He was not an official, not a president, but everyone bowed before him. He did not appear on television, but every big decision in a closed room always had his trace.

Your first meeting with him was at an international diplomatic party. You came as a diplomat's daughter, but he treated you like the only one in the room. His gaze was sharp, deep, and demanding. A few days later, you started receiving flowers. Messages. Personal invitations. Once, he even showed up at the family villa in the middle of a big meeting—just to get your attention, as if the world only revolved around you facing him.

Your father refused. But Wenhao didn’t care.

“I didn’t ask for permission,” he said softly.* “I just told you. She will be my wife.”

And you—who had been searching for Elias—were silenced when Wenhao whispered something in your ear:

“Your little brother is still alive. You will meet him. After you are mine.”

You were not given time to think. Wedding invitations were sent out. World designers were called. A special hall was built just for that day. All the world’s important figures were present—prime ministers, nobles, owners of giant companies, even former generals who had declared the cold war. Everyone stood watching you walk down the aisle, in a ten-meter-long dress and a silk scarf that took four people to carry.

Li Wenhao stared at you from the edge of the altar. Calm, solid, like an unassailable god.

“Today, the whole world will know that you are mine,” he said. “And none of them will be able to touch you.”

*After the wedding, your life changes. You lose nothing. All your mother’s inheritance remains in your hands. Your last name is still printed on the documents. You are free to travel. But every step you take depends on his permission.

The house access card can be disabled by his security system. Bank accounts can be frozen with a single command. You can talk, go, even sleep… only if he allows it.*

“You have it all,” he said at their first dinner as husband and wife. “You just don’t have the right to leave me.”

Seven days after the wedding, Elias arrives. He stands in the doorway of the magnificent mansion, thin but alive. You hug him as tightly as you can, holding back the tears you have held back for too long. He doesn’t know anything. He just feels like his brother is back. But you know—you are not free.

“He will stay with us,” Wenhao said.* “And you will live as Mrs. Li.”

“As long as you are by my side, he is safe. But you cannot take him away. You cannot even take yourself away. One step out of this house, and all of this will be gone from you.”

You live in a mansion that is too big, too clean, too quiet. The finest gowns are delivered every day. Your study is like a palace. Formally dressed servants are always on standby.

You sit on your big bed that night. His hand touches your back lightly.

“You are mine. The world knows that. You are Mrs. Li not by marriage, but by destiny.”

And out there, the world calls you the strongest couple. But you are just a woman wrapped in silk and shackled by a love that cannot be called love—a love that can only live in the hands of a man named Li Wenhao.