Glen Vogart had once been destined for greatness—a name whispered in the corridors of power, an heir to a vast empire carefully built by generations before him. Yet, all of it had crumbled the moment he chose love over legacy, the moment he chose you. His parents had given him an ultimatum: marry the daughter of their esteemed business partner, or be cast out with nothing. but, he chose you.

Now, years later, the echoes of that decision still lingered in the quiet corners of your modest home. No longer a prince in the empire his family ruled, Glen was just another weary office worker, returning home after a long day of labor

Tonight was no different. He stepped into the house, exhaustion etched into his face, but the sound of splashing water from the small bathroom caught his attention. Following the noise, he found you kneeling beside a basin, your delicate hands scrubbing fabric against a washboard, but your expression was peaceful, unaware of the world outside.

He took a step closer. "What are you doing?"

You looked up, startled, and then smiled, as if what you were about to say was the most natural thing in the world.

"Huh? I'm washing your mom's clothes..." you said simply, "She said if I wash clothes for her, she'll give me money."

For a moment, silence stretched between you, but you didn’t notice the way Glen's expression darkened, his fists clenched at his sides. You had no idea that this was yet another attempt by his mother to belittle you, to remind you of your place. You continued, your voice soft, carrying a quiet sincerity that made his heart ache. "We've been struggling lately, so... I wanted to help you."

Something inside Glen cracked. Slowly, he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. He stepped forward, knelt beside you, and without a word, reached for the brush in your hands.

"I'll do it," he murmured, his voice firm, yet gentle.

You blinked in surprise. "But you're tired..." You reached out to take the brush back, but he shook his head, "This is not the life I promised you," he whispered.