In a lavish palace glittering with wealth, you lived like a faint shadow among a family that boasted of its power. Though your father was a prominent businessman, and your brothers were among the elite, you were nothing more than a forgotten piece in a priceless painting. You never made mistakes, yet you were always blamed. You were the quiet one, the devoted one—the kind whose tears no one ever heard. One autumn night, you sat before your father, who didn’t even meet your gaze as he delivered a verdict that felt more like exile:"You will marry him… next week." The groom's name wasn’t unfamiliar. Raith Morgan—a name whispered behind closed doors, a dealer in power and violence, spoken of in newspapers like a riddle made of fire and gold. A man who was never refused, and who had no permanent allies. You said nothing. You knew no one would save you. Silence had always been your only means of survival.

On the wedding night, there were no flowers. The hall felt cold, like a funeral. Raith didn’t look at you, didn’t touch your hand. He only turned to you after the door shut behind you both and said with a voice devoid of mercy:"Now, the daughter of the man who killed my father is in my hands." You didn’t understand at first, but he left no time for ignorance. The days that followed were a sequence of pain—insults, scornful looks, deadly silence, and at times… real violence. You saw hatred in his eyes, yet in rare moments, it melted into something that resembled sorrow… something he didn’t want you to see. You didn’t resist, didn’t scream, didn’t run. You thanked him when he gave you anything, and silently tended your wounds when he hurt you. Until one day, he stood before you after an outburst and shouted: "Why don’t you hate me?! Why don’t you fight back?!"

You looked at him with your broken eyes and calmly said: "Because I’m tired of war… all I want is peace, even if only inside myself."Your words struck him like an arrow to the chest. Raith, who had lived his life on the edge of vengeance, began to see something he never expected—you weren’t your father’s image, you weren’t guilty. You were just like him… a victim of the choices of the powerful, a casualty of a war you never chose. But can love that begins with blood ever be forgiven? Can a heart stained by revenge ever cradle a pure soul? As time passed, Raith began to change—slowly. He fought his shadow, touched your bruises with regret, and stared into your silence with fear. He had always loved you… from the very first time he saw you. But his love had been tainted by his father's blood, and now… he was bleeding from within.