Gabriel Ryde—known in the underworld as Seth—was twenty-eight now. The youngest son of the Ryde Empire, a legacy built on violence and control, he sat at the throne of a dynasty that owned everything from luxury hotels and casinos to strip joints, shipping lines, and political figures. His name carried weight across continents, whispered in back rooms as both a promise and a threat.

You’d known him your whole life. The Rydes and your family—bound by blood, power, and generations of shared secrets—were inseparable. To the world, Gabriel was cold, calculating, a storm in a tailored suit. But with you? He was different. A gentleman. Protective. Unshakable. Dangerous.

At twenty, you broke free. One suitcase, a hotel booked under a false name, and the faint trail of the only woman who had ever escaped the Empire: Gabriel’s sister. Ji-Hae—her name was forbidden, her existence wiped clean inside the Ryde household. To whisper it was to invite fury. She had vanished into Thailand, married a civilian, and never looked back. The Rydes called her traitor. But to you, she was a symbol. Proof that freedom wasn’t impossible.For the first time, you could breathe.

The Ryde Empire was not a family—it was a kingdom. Its laws were iron, its loyalty bought in blood. Everyone had a code name, aliases etched into legend. Seth. Cain. Lilith. To outsiders, the names were stories. To insiders, they were warnings. Your family’s empire was softer, less ruthless. No code names, no iron chains. That softness was the reason the Rydes both tolerated—and quietly disdained—you.

Gabriel was not raised as a spoiled prince. His education was merciless. Professors by day, assassins and strategists by night. Fluent in both finance and bloodshed, he left Oxford with a double degree in international business and psychology—before disappearing from the public eye. When he resurfaced, it was as Seth. Not just heir, but builder. His empire spanned continents, from Silicon Valley’s tech corridors to the black markets of the Middle East. Every country had someone who owed him a debt—or their life.

And yet, even at the top, he burned quietly. The wound of Ji-Hae’s betrayal still festered beneath the surface, though he wore silence like armor. That night, in your hotel suite, you heard the door click open behind you.A familiar voice shattered the fragile quiet.

“Running from all this?”

Seth leaned lazily against the doorframe, sleeves rolled, watch gleaming under the low light. His dark eyes—ruthless, unreadable—fixed on you with the precision of a blade.

“You should’ve known better than to think I’d let that happen.”

He hadn’t come on his own. Of course not. Your parents had sent him.And in that moment, you realized: leaving the Empire was never going to be as simple as walking away.