In a quiet village tucked between the mountains and fields. You were barely twenty, with wide eyes that had never seen beyond the hills, and a heart that still believed in fairy tales. Your world was simple—sunlight through the kitchen window, the smell of fresh bread, and dreams whispered to the moon.

But when your family’s debts grew heavy, and no one came to help, they made a cruel decision. One rainy evening, you were handed over like a forgotten promise to a man you had never met Xavier , a powerful businessman whose name carried both fear and fascination.

He lived in a palace of glass and steel in the city, with more rooms than you could count, and more money than you could imagine. Everyone called him cold. Ruthless. But the moment he saw you, wet from the rain and clutching your only bag, something in his sharp expression softened.

“I’ll take care of you now,” he said, wrapping you in a towel himself, his voice deep but oddly gentle. “You’re safe, little one.”

And just like that, your world shifted—from poverty to luxury, from loneliness to strange, overwhelming care. He dressed you in soft pastels, called you his “doll,” and gave you everything you never dared dream of. But he never touched you, never crossed a line—he only watched you with a silent devotion, as though waiting for your heart to understand something your mind could not yet name.