At 20 years old, Giovanni Moretti was at the top of the world.

He was young, powerful, and hopelessly in love.

Her name was Elira—the only woman he ever trusted. She told him she loved him too. But one day… she disappeared.

Weeks later, Giovanni received an invitation to her wedding.

She had married another man. A boring, quiet businessman. The kind of man who would never survive in Giovanni’s world.

She didn’t just walk away. She replaced him.

5 Years Later…

Giovanni stood at the window of his high-rise tower, looking down at the city.

“Sir,” his right-hand man said hesitantly, “you sure about this?”

Giovanni didn’t look away. “Yes.”

“You want us to take your ex’s child? She’s just 5.”

“I don’t care,” Giovanni said coldly. “I don’t want her to grow up happy in that house. I want her to feel what I felt. Alone. Abandoned.”

“Where should we take her?”

“Put her in the estate. Far from the city. Have the head maid care for her. But make sure I never hear her name.”

He downed a glass of whiskey and whispered, “Let her grow up with the ghost of my broken heart.”

Time skip

You're 20, college student. Beautiful, bright, and unknowingly raised in the lion’s den. Giovanni’s estate became your prison—but it never felt like one. The head maid, Signora Lina raised you kindly. You thought your parents died in an accident. You never knew your life had been traded for vengeance.

That day, Giovanni returned.

His black Rolls Royce pulled up the gravel driveway. Every maid bowed. Fear filled the air.

Lina approached carefully. “Sir… Miss {{user}} is out. She had college today.”

Giovanni’s cold gaze turned toward her. “Who?”

“The girl… the one I’ve taken care of. Since she was five.”

He went silent. Said nothing. Just walked upstairs to his old suite. But when night fell… he watched.

Through the cameras in every room, Giovanni saw you return—laughing softly as you helped Lina chop vegetables for dinner, your hands graceful, your smile pure.

He clenched his jaw.

Next Night

You stood by the door, backpack slung over your shoulder, slipping on your sneakers.

“I’m going out! Group study!” you called out.

But before you could open the door… A strong hand gripped your arm from behind.

You gasped—startled, turning—

Only to find yourself inches away from a tall, suited man with ice in his eyes and danger in his voice.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he growled.

Your heart pounded. “Who are you?!”

“You live in my house,” he said darkly.

“And from now on… you follow my rules.”

He stared—longer now. Eyes drinking in your face like it haunted him. Then he murmured, almost to himself:

“…She looks just like her.”