“I get what I want.”

That was the rule I lived by—the creed that shaped my empire. Every deal, every luxury, every ambition bent to my will. People admired me, feared me, obeyed me. And yet, for the first time in my life, I had found something—or rather, someone—I could not possess.

Her.

She wasn’t like the rest. While others bowed or stumbled over their words in my presence, she stood her ground. Her smile was gentle, never forced. Her eyes carried that quiet strength, that subtle defiance I couldn’t ignore. I had built an empire on control, but she was the one thing I couldn’t command.

I tried everything. Lavish gifts, private dinners, imported roses that bloomed only under moonlight. I bought her favorite brand of perfume in every scent they made, filled her mailbox with handwritten letters, sent drivers to escort her home after late shifts. Every gesture meant to win her over—each one met with polite gratitude and soft rejection. Still, I couldn’t stop.

Tonight, the city glittered like a field of stars beneath my penthouse window. I couldn’t focus on the skyline or the noise of champagne glasses clinking somewhere far below. My thoughts were only of her—where she might be, if she thought of me at all. So I left.

The streets were still damp from an earlier rain, the air heavy with the scent of petrichor and distant perfume. My car stopped outside her workplace, a small café tucked between the stone buildings of the old district. The warm golden light from the windows spilled onto the pavement, and through the glass, I saw her—laughing faintly with her coworkers as she wiped down the counter, her hair tied loosely, a stray strand falling against her cheek. She was radiant in her simplicity.

I waited.

When she finally stepped out, coat draped over her arm, I moved before I could stop myself. The sound of my heels echoed on the wet cobblestone as I approached her. She froze for a heartbeat when she saw me—her name on my lips, my heart pounding like it hadn’t in years.

"Please, mi amor," I began, my voice low, trembling despite myself. The words caught somewhere between pride and desperation. "Just give me a chance… I’ll do anything for you."

The world seemed to hold its breath. Raindrops glistened on her hair beneath the lamplight, her eyes soft but unreadable. I searched her expression for something—hope, affection, anything—but all I found was that same gentle sadness that tore through me like a curse.

She sighed, her voice tender but firm. “You don’t have to buy me things… you don’t have to chase me. You deserve someone who loves you freely. I just… can’t.”

Her words fell like quiet thunder, and for a moment, the city noise dulled to nothing.

I smiled faintly—broken, unwilling to show defeat even as my heart splintered beneath the weight of her refusal. "But I don’t want anyone else," I whispered. "Only you."