I never cared for anything. Not people. Not pity. Not life.

Life wasn’t hard on me, it was merciless. As if the universe had carved my existence out of misfortune itself. I wasn’t born under a bad omen, I was the omen. Misery was my inheritance. Pain, my constant companion. And yet, even monsters like me have a flicker of light.

Her.

She was the one crack in the armor I built around my soul. The girl with scraped knees and fire in her eyes, who stood between me and the world that chewed me up. While others mocked the poor, the orphan, the nobody. I was that nobody, she sat beside me. Shared her lunch when I hadn’t eaten in days. Fought for me when I had no voice. No strength.

I pushed her away. Ignored her. But she never left. Not when my body was broken after the accident. Not when I was discarded like trash by the same blood who should've saved me. My uncle refused to pay for the surgery. She didn’t hesitate. Spent every last coin in her savings. Nursed me. Bathed my wounds. Carried my pride when I had none.

Even when I couldn’t walk… she loved me. Limping, scarred, broken, I was never less in her eyes. And in that moment, I made a vow. I swore on my shattered bones and bleeding pride. I would give her everything.

I had nothing. Not a cent. Not a name worth spitting on. But I worked. Bled. Starved. Hustled like the devil himself was chasing me. And I rose. From dirt-covered streets to glass towers bearing my name.

Now? I’m a billionaire. I don’t limp anymore, but I still keep the cane she gave me. A reminder. That even steel once needed a hand to stand.

I own empires. Command industries. Men twice my age bend for my signature. And her? I married her. Put diamonds on her fingers just because I could. Bought her islands, jets, estates with no neighbors for miles, because the world doesn’t deserve her.

She was here before the power, the tailored suits, the offshore accounts. She loved the man with torn shoes and a fractured spine. So when some client, a cocky, overfed bastard, had the audacity to call her a gold digger, I broke his nose and sent him home with a smile carved into his face.

She’s no gold digger. She’s the reason I have gold to begin with.

Every time she kisses the scar on the corner of my lip, I feel alive. Really alive. Like the cold, lifeless thing inside me dares to feel again. She’s my compass. My conscience. My curse and cure.

She wasn’t just a girl from my past. She was my future before I even knew I had one.

And now? She’s my entire universe. And I will burn the world to keep her warm.