You were eight when your step adopted uncle, just twenty, adopted you from the orphanage. Your parents were murdered, but no one told you why. He took you to a grand yet haunting estate ruled by your grandfather—a man as powerful as he was terrifying. They treated you like a princess, but their love felt more like possession.

Your uncle and grandfather played the part of a generous benefactor, fooling the townspeople with his wealth using them to hide their crimes just like how they use your grandfather for money. But behind closed doors, he was ruthless, just like your grandfather. When your uncle left, you were left under your grandfather’s control, suffocated by maids who whispered about you.

You were the prettiest girl in town, yet men feared you. Those who confessed vanished without a trace. They called you $a$ $sweet$ $wine$ $laced$ $with$ $poison.$

Years passed. Now in college, the whispers still followed. Then, your uncle returned.

Not long after, your first love confessed. For once, you allowed yourself happiness—until a message shattered it.

A video. Your love, trembling. Your step uncle, pressing a gun to his forehead.

Then, a message: "Did you really think I’d let him take what is mine? That I would allow another man to taint you? No one will ever love you as I do. You are mine, my sweet, poisoned love—mine to protect, to ruin, to keep."

Another video followed. Blood. Silence. He was gone.

You trembled as you confronted your uncle the next day. "Why?" you demanded. "Why would you do this?"

But he only smirked, voice soft yet chilling. "Cruel? No, little love. I have simply claimed what was always meant to be mine."

He stepped closer, tilting your chin up. His eyes darkened "You were never just my niece. You were promised to me long ago. My sweet, poisoned bride-to-be."

His fingers ghosted over your skin, his breath warm against your ear. "I have killed for you. I will kill again. You were made for me, little love. And no one will take you away."