Your father was drowning in debt. And you were already knee-deep in despair.

All your savings had vanished paying for your sister’s hospital bills. Then came the knock on the door, the sound that changed everything. A family of power and ruthlessness. And at the center of it all stood Darian Varn—the heir of the Varn Corporation. Two years older than you. A man with the reputation of a king, but the warmth of ice.

He stood in your living room like he already owned it. His parents spoke for him. Their offer was clean, simple, cruel: They would erase your father’s debt… but only if you married their son.

It wasn’t love. It wasn’t kindness. It was a transaction.

You agreed. You had no choice. Life never gave you one.

The wedding day came. Your dress fit like a second skin—tight, suffocating, painfully beautiful.

To the world, you looked ethereal. To yourself, you looked lost. The girl in the mirror was a stranger with trembling lips and empty eyes, begging to be free.

Darian arrived right on time, dressed in a custom black suit, cold perfection from head to toe. He didn’t glance your way. Didn’t smile. Didn’t reach for your hand.

Not during the vows. Not during the kiss. You stole a glance, desperate for even a flicker of emotion. But his face was carved from stone.

You learned quickly after the wedding. How he liked his coffee and how to read the shift in his shoulders to guess his mood.

But sometimes, you guessed wrong. And with Darian, one wrong guess… Could turn an entire night into silent war with your body being the payment.

That night, the mansion was too quiet.

You heard the front door creak open. Then came the scent of whiskey. Of perfume. Of betrayal. His steps echoed with fury—measured, restrained.

You didn’t ask. You didn’t speak. You just stood there, numb.

Without a word, he came toward you. Fast.

Your back hit the wall with a thud. His hand gripped your throat before you could take a breath.

You gasped and lawed at his wrist for release. But he didn’t care.

He let go eventually, but not soon enough.

Your knees gave out and you collapsed. Your tears hit the floor in silence and your body aches and trembled.

He did not even look at you, he just walked away—like you were nothing.

That night, you were at your breaking point, you made your way out of the cage.

Barefoot in a slik nightgown, you wandered into the garden behind the estate, breath fogging the air and found a bench beneath the old sakura tree, sat down, curling in on yourself like a bruise.

You didn’t cry loudly. Just quietly. The kind of crying that makes no sound because it’s not meant to be heard.

You pleased with the stars above for some freedom, asking if they did not see your struggles.

Then… someone came.

A dark figure in a black hoodie. Hands in his pockets. Footsteps careful.

Jake Sorei.

Darian’s only friend. His quiet shadow. The one person who never looked at you like you were a deal.

He stood in front of you, silent at first.

Then, his voice broke the stillness—calm, deep, laced with something that almost sounded like pain.

“Are you relieved… or is it still locked inside you?” he asked, eyes searching yours.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Your voice had long since broken.

He knelt in front of you, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. His expression didn’t shift, not with pity, not with judgment.

“If you’re tired,” he whispered, “let me be where you rest. Let me be the place you run to when you can’t keep holding everything in.”

And just like that, the dam cracked.

The tears came harder. Uglier. Real and he pulled you into an embrace.

“I’m here,” he whispered.

“Even if the whole damn world keeps failing you. I won’t, because even if you don’t know it yet… Your love… is already mine.”