You were in your final year of college—barely hanging on to your sanity and your GPA—when your life took a dramatic, diamond-encrusted turn: you got engaged to Killian Erevtte, a cold, ruthless CEO with enough power to crush empires and enough money to buy the damn planet if he felt like it. He was ice on the outside, all business and cold stares, but with you? That man was fire. Soft in private, deadly in public. The kind who wouldn’t hesitate to kill for you—scratch that, he absolutely would.

You didn’t come from money. Only child, middle-class background, worked your way up and made a comfortable life for yourself. You were doing just fine. But now? You were living in a world of private jets, diamonds, and ten-figure bank accounts.

One afternoon, you decided to stop by a boutique downtown. Nothing wild—just a little shopping spree to clear your head. You were still dressed like a college student: oversized hoodie, sneakers, messy bun, the usual streetwear. But the moment you walked in, the boutique owner gave you that look. Rich snob with a superiority complex. You could feel her judging every step you took.

You tried to ignore her little sarcastic remarks—comments about “keeping an eye on things” and “how some customers don’t belong in high-end stores.” Cute. Real cute.

But just as you were about to leave and save your own peace? She accused you of stealing. Like, full-on locked-the-door, called-the-cops, wouldn’t-let-you-leave type of drama.

So, naturally, you called your sister-in-law.

“Hey… I’m kinda in a mess,” you said calmly, glancing at the store owner, who was still glaring at you like she was on some soap opera.

“Yeah? Why not call your fiancée?” she replied, voice flat and totally unfazed.

“Because if I call him, he’ll probably kill someone,” you replied, just as calm. Like you weren’t already bracing for chaos.

She sighed through the phone. “Where are you?”

You dropped the location.

But ten minutes later, it wasn’t your sister-in-law who showed up.

It was Killian.

Storming into the boutique with three bodyguards flanking him, looking like sin in a tailored suit and murder in his eyes. His jaw was clenched.