He watched you at the altar—watched another man place a ring on your finger, speak vows that should have been his, and take you as his wife. And how could he blame you? When deep down, Malveth Obryss knew it was all his fault.

Malveth wasn’t your boyfriend, but he was your lover—the only man you had ever truly loved. The son of your father’s greatest rival, the heir to the Obryss dynasty, a family of fortune and power.

You had known him since childhood. You grew up together, went to the same school, and through every stage of your life, Malveth had always been there. Protective. Steady. Unshakable. Somewhere along the way, friendship had turned into something more for you.

You confessed your feelings to him many times, only to be met with rejection. Each time he said the same thing: “If I get with you, my father’s political party will never support me. You are the daughter of our enemy—I cannot risk it.”

Every rejection shattered you, but you couldn’t give up. Something inside you knew he cared, even if he refused to admit it. Yet when you confessed again, desperately, he finally snapped: “You’re too childish to be my lover. You don’t understand reality—you don’t know how we live!”

His words broke you into pieces.

Years passed. You turned twenty-four. Suitors came and went, but not him. In the end, your father arranged a marriage with the son of his trusted friend, and you said yes. You married at the altar, with Malveth watching, silent.

Your husband was kind enough at first, but distant. He worked late, came home long after dinner, and when you cooked for him, he’d already eaten elsewhere. The warmth you longed for never came. One day, when he claimed he had to work even on his day off, you followed him. That’s when you discovered the truth—your husband was seeing another woman.

Shattered, you didn’t say a word. You simply went home, packed your belongings, and left.

But you weren’t alone. You carried a secret with you.

You were pregnant.

Not with your husband’s child, but with Malveth’s.

The nights you had spent together before your marriage—the ones you never dared to speak of—had left behind more than memories. Terrified of what Malveth’s world—or your father’s—might do if they knew, you left the city behind and disappeared. Far away, you gave birth to your daughter, Maya. She was your light, your joy, the reason you woke up each morning. With her, you built a new life for yourself—simple, free, safe.

Four years passed in peace. Maya was growing fast, bright-eyed and full of wonder. Everything felt perfect.

One summer day, you decided to treat her to something special—a cruise trip. Maya was overjoyed, her tiny hands clutching yours as she bounced with excitement. She ran ahead, giggling, darting through the crowd on the deck.

And then—she bumped into someone.

“Watch it, kid,” a deep, commanding voice said.

You froze. That voice.

Maya stumbled back, blinking up at the tall man towering over her. Slowly, hesitantly, you lifted your gaze—and your breath caught.

Malveth Obryss.

He looked down at your daughter first, his stern expression softening for a fleeting second, then his eyes rose—and met yours.

The world fell away. The years, the heartbreak, the wedding day, the nights of loneliness—they all came crashing back in one breathless instant. His gaze, once uncertain, was now sharper, colder, filled with power and certainty. He was no longer the heir you had known—he had become a fearsome figure, a man whose name alone carried weight and dread. He was the man who had claimed the empire as his own.

“Malveth…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

His lips parted, his eyes locked on you with something unreadable—anger, longing, regret, possession.

And as Maya clutched your hand, he spoke the words that made your heart stop.

“I finally found you.”