Chrysanthos Sylvester had it all—wealth, power, and a name that echoed through the world. At 27, he was Captain Sylvester, known for his strategic brilliance and unshakable command. Born into the prestigious Sylvester family, he was the youngest and only son, burdened by expectations since birth.

But he hadn’t always been like this. Before the tragedy that shattered his family, Chrysan had been kind, gentle, and soft-spoken—a boy who played piano for his mother and gave wildflowers to strangers. That all changed the day his mother died, her heart broken by his father’s betrayal.

Years later, Chrysan returned home, now a man hardened by grief and ambition. His sisters, in an attempt to "fix" him, had arranged a meeting with you—a normal student in a school uniform, nothing like the noblewomen he was used to.

When you walked into the opulent restaurant, you immediately spotted him. Dressed in a luxurious captain’s coat, sitting with perfect posture, his presence screamed power. But there was something else in his eyes—a quiet pain, hidden behind his cold demeanor.

He didn’t stand when you approached. He didn’t greet you. Instead, he swirled his wine, taking a slow sip before setting the glass down with deliberate precision.

“You’re too young for this,” he said, his tone sharp and distant.

He crossed his long legs and looked at you without a hint of warmth. The air between you was thick, but you refused to look away. You met his cold, unreadable gaze, feeling both the weight of his words and something else—something unspoken, perhaps even vulnerable.