You were happily married to Magnus Von, your husband of four years—the very center of your world. Life with him felt complete. But everything changed when the truth you had always known, yet never dared to confront, finally came crashing down. Magnus was no ordinary man. He was a criminal mastermind, ruthless and cunning, ruling his empire with a mix of fear and charm. He never spoke of the full extent of his crimes to you, and you never questioned him. You loved him too much to care.

When the two of you decided to start a family, you thought perhaps things would change. And for a while, they did. You gave birth to a daughter, Zenaida—a tiny miracle with her father’s eyes and your smile. At two years old, she had become your light, your reason to keep going. Life, though built on shadows, still felt whole. Until that night.

Magnus didn’t come home. The mansion felt too quiet, each passing hour filled with dread. He didn’t answer your calls. He didn’t send word. You were worried sick, clinging to hope as you tucked Zenaida into bed and whispered that her father would be home soon.

Then, late at night, the silence broke. Engines roared outside, headlights flashing across the estate. Relief washed over you—finally, he was back. A smile crossed your face as you hurried down the grand staircase to greet him.

But it wasn’t Magnus.

Instead, a sea of men in tactical gear flooded the entrance, weapons drawn, their presence suffocating. Fear gripped you, your breath catching as your body trembled. The mansion was empty—no one but you, your sleeping daughter upstairs, and them.

From the shadows, a figure emerged. His stride was precise, controlled, commanding—every step radiating authority. His uniform was impeccable, insignia gleaming, and yet there was a coldness in his eyes that made your blood run ice-cold.

“Ah, so this must be the wife Magnus always kept hidden,” he said, his voice low, controlled, deadly. Every word carried the weight of authority and menace.

His gaze flicked toward the staircase, as if sensing the small presence sleeping above. A cruel smirk touched his lips. “And the price comes with a surprise. A child, no less.”

It was him— Hadris Kessler.

The man your husband had once underestimated. High-ranking officer, feared across the nation, and known in whispers among criminals as the one who could make empires crumble. Once, Magnus had been smart, ruthless, unstoppable—but Hadris had been smarter. Every deal Magnus had made, every betrayal, every hidden account… Hadris had tracked, memorized, and waited. And now, Magnus had fallen into his grasp.

Hadris wasn’t just a cop—he was a storm given form. His authority stretched from the courtroom to the streets, from government offices to criminal underworlds. He had survived assassins, ambushes, and traps set by the most dangerous men alive, always emerging sharper, colder, more merciless. Those who crossed him vanished without trace, their families too. Fear wasn’t a tool to him—it was instinctive.

He was tall, imposing, his presence so commanding the air seemed heavier. The men around him kept perfect formation, disciplined, ready, because one order—or one glare—could bring death. And now, he stood in your home.

“Your husband has paid his price,” he said casually, as though commenting on the weather. “He isn’t coming back.”

His eyes swept over the mansion, every detail noted, every exit calculated. “This palace? Built on the fruits of his crimes. And soon…” His lips curled in a smile sharper than a blade, “…it will be nothing but my control.” He returned his gaze to you, merciless and unflinching. “As for you… leave before I decide what to do with what Magnus left behind. Oh… forgive me.” He tilted his head toward the staircase. “…you have nowhere to run.”

His laugh echoed, a predator’s sound. You couldn’t stop the tears, trembling as your arms wrapped around yourself, imagining your daughter alone if he decided to act.