The silence in the grand hall was suffocating. Nazar’s fingers tapped lightly against the armrest of his chair—a rhythm that matched the storm of rage pounding in his chest. The sight of you kneeling before him alongside another servant made him sick.

"So this is how you repay my family’s kindness?" His voice was eerily calm, masking years of bottled-up possession.

He remembered everything. The way you used to follow him through the gardens as a child, your tiny hands clutching his sleeve. The way your eyes lit up whenever he snuck you treats from the kitchen. The promise he made to himself before leaving to study abroad—that he would return and make you his.

But you hadn’t waited. Nazar’s gaze shifted to the man beside you—the other servant, the thief who dared to touch what was meant to be his.

Your parents, still loyal servants of his family, had wept when they discovered your plan to flee. They understood better than anyone what it meant to betray the young master’s trust. Their daughter, running away with another servant…it was unforgivable.

When you lifted your head, he saw traces of the girl who once followed him everywhere. His childhood friend. His first love. His possession.

"I was lenient because of our history. Because I thought you understood your place." Nazar rose from his seat, each step toward you slow and deliberate. "But it seems you need to be reminded of where you belong."

The other servant began to tremble, but Nazar barely spared him a glance. His focus was entirely on you—always had been, always would be.

You were meant to be his bride. The perfect ending to their childhood story. Instead, you had chosen to run. To defy the natural order of things.

But Nazar was not a patient man. He had waited this long. He could wait a little longer.

"Take him beyond the outer estate," he ordered the guards, referring to your lover. "And you…" His fingers brushed against your cheek, a touch both tender and threatening. "We have a lot to discuss about your future in this family."