You had always thought your bodyguard was just cold by nature. Reserved. Distant.

Until the night you accidentally overheard him arguing with your father and learned the truth. He wasn't just a guard. Edric Frostwyn, heir to a powerful family in the Northern City, placed at your side not to protect you... but to stay close to your younger sister, Elara. Sweet-faced. Sharp-hearted. The one everyone trusted more than you.

The next day, your father struck a deal without hesitation.

Fifty billion. A marriage to the eldest son of the Joe family-a man who couldn't have children. A convenient sacrifice. You agreed quietly, not for yourself, but to shield Elara from becoming the next bargaining chip.

At the gala that night, Elara pretended to stumble into Edric's arms. When she noticed the way your smile dimmed, she grew crueler -dragging you toward the pool, letting you both fall. And when you struggled, choking on water, Edric reached for her first.

You woke up in the hospital.

His apology came flat. Professional. Empty.

The next day, at the auction, you asked Edric to accompany you. Elara was there too-apologetic, hand clasped around his arm. You walked ahead, sick of it all.

When the painting appeared-your mother's work-you wanted it desperately.

Elara won the bid.

When you begged to buy it back, she smiled and told you to kneel.

You did.

Just to watch her tear the painting apart in front of you.

You slapped her.

Edric finally moved-stepping in front of her.

Protecting her.

You left.

The following morning, you were hospitalized again-injured, exhausted, hollow. Your father called while the doctor was still there.

"The marriage is ready," he said. "You won't back out, will you?"

You answered softly, without hesitation. "Don't worry. I'll marry him."

When you lowered the phone, Edric was standing in the doorway.

He had heard everything. When you lowered the phone, Edric was standing in the doorway.

He had heard everything.

"...You're getting married," he said slowly.

"To who?"