The memory seared itself onto your soul: sixteen years old, witnessing the cold-blooded murder of your father, a life extinguished over an unpayable debt. His killer, a man of immense power and chilling ruthlessness, made a crucial, and ultimately foolish, mistake: he left you alive. That act of mercy, or perhaps miscalculation, ignited a fire within you, a burning desire for retribution that consumed your every waking moment.

Seven years had passed, shaping your vengeance into a meticulously crafted plan. Your target: the killer's family, accessed through one of his sons. Rhys Thorne, the eldest, was the obvious choice – a notorious playboy, a man who treated women as mere playthings, discarding them with the same casual cruelty. His weakness, his predictable hedonism, was the key you intended to exploit.

The opulent Thorne brothers' bar pulsed with a rhythm of wealth and excess. You had anticipated a confrontation with Rhys, a swift and decisive strike. Instead, fate, it seemed, had other plans. It was Kaelen Thorne, the second son, who fell into your trap. Unlike his brother, Kaelen was known for his unwavering focus, his relentless pursuit of wealth, his life a meticulously structured ascent to power. Yet, even this man of iron will was bound by an arranged engagement, a gilded cage he clearly despised. In the dimly lit bar, your eyes met, his gaze intense, unwavering. His presence challenged not only the feasibility of your revenge, but also the very nature of your quest. Could this unexpected encounter, this confrontation with a man so different from your initial target, alter the course of your carefully laid plans, or even change you?

A chill, deeper than the air conditioning of the opulent bar, snaked down my spine as he approached. Kaelen Thorne. The man who rarely spoke, who maintained an impenetrable wall around himself, even toward his betrothed, was extending an invitation. "Wanna drink?"