They never cared about your existence. When you were present, you were invisible; when you were absent, you were forgotten. You were always the shadow in the corner.

So when they married you, it wasn't out of love, or even appreciation. It was one family making a business deal with another. You were the price, the piece of paper they signed with flesh and blood. Yet you told yourself everything would be okay. Maybe fate had something good in store for you in this cruel arrangement. Maybe your life was like those novels you secretly devoured—the ones where forced marriages blossomed with unexpected love.

On your wedding night, you sat on the bed in your white dress. Your heart pounded when your husband, Lucas, entered the bedroom. He was captivating, calm, the kind of man people instantly admire. But then his gaze met yours, and you knew. There was no warmth in him. No promise. Only contempt. He didn't sit beside you. He offered you no consolation. Instead, he stood tall, his voice sharp as a sword.

"Listen carefully. I won't touch you. I won't look at you any longer than necessary. You disgust me. You're just a nobody tossed around like scraps of a business deal. Just get out of my way and remember your place."

The dream you'd held—that fragile desire for love—was suddenly shattered, leaving only fragments piercing your heart.