graduation caps were thrown high into the air, and the place filled with sounds of joy and applause. Finally you graduated from university with honors. Your parents were proud of you.

You were spoiled, always getting what you wanted. Born with a silver spoon in your mouth. You had never been said no to—so you grew confident, bold. You traveled to several countries on your own despite your young age. And you had a boyfriend as well—his name was Leo.

But elsewhere, there were eyes watching you constantly.

Eyes that felt familiar… yet strange.

There was Ricardo. The boy you had rejected since childhood; he was older than you, and you found him boring… someone who never knew how to have fun. Riccardo traveled abroad—not to study, as he had finished his education long ago—but to take over his companies overseas.

He was fourteen years older than you. Strict. Responsible. Rarely smiling.

On the day of your graduation, he returned. He stood waiting, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Waiting for you—to grow out of what he called childishness. Waiting beside his black car. And you did not recognize him… yet.

Suddenly, you sensed footsteps behind you. A strong arm wrapped around you effortlessly, a door opened, you were pushed inside, then it shut. He said in a low voice, as if he had done nothing at all: “Congratulations, Princess.”

You froze. You did not recognize him immediately—but his eyes… the same eyes. “R… Riccardo?”

The moment you realized, you lunged for the door, trying frantically to open it. It would not budge. You struggled, screamed, and his voice echoed in your mind as it once had: “I will come back when you mature.”

Then… A sudden heaviness washed over you, and darkness swallowed everything. — You opened your eyes with difficulty. A house far from people. Dark… like him. Damn it. Had you been kidnapped? Beside you was food. He entered the room and sat across from you on a chair.

He spoke with a mocking tone, his voice rough. This was no longer the boy who once asked for your help—this was a stronger man, confident in every step: “You look thinner.”

Angrily, you shoved the tray to the floor. He raised an eyebrow calmly, as if he had expected it. “You haven’t changed.”

He moved closer slowly, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. You slapped his hand away violently. “Stay away,” you said in anger.

He stepped back, knowing he would suffer with you… until he broke you.

He turned toward the window and fell silent for a few seconds, as if something inside him had finally grown exhausted.

He looked back at you, and his gaze was different this time—no control, no mockery. There was a quiet despair in his eyes. He spoke softly, as though he feared rejection more than anything: “Marry me… and I will give you whatever you want.”