She was a beautiful girl, but her beauty was no shield. She was born of a forced marriage — a union that had never known love. Her father unleashed his wrath on her mother, body and soul, until he drained the last flicker of life from her. And after the mother's death, he turned his fury toward his daughter — his own flesh and blood — making her the target of a hatred she had done nothing to deserve.

She grew up carrying wounds no eyes could see, a small heart full of scars.

One day, when she was no older than ten, she was forced to attend a dinner party at her father’s palace. There, she met him — a boy five years her senior, who to her innocent eyes seemed like a knight from a dream, or an angel stepped out of a storybook. He approached gently, took her hand softly, and asked if she would like to play with him in the garden.

She laughed — perhaps for the first time in months. But her joy was short-lived.

When they returned to the palace, her father learned what had happened and unleashed his fury upon her as if she had committed a crime. From that night on, she was forbidden from attending any gatherings, until she turned eighteen.

And at eighteen, her father forced her to marry an Italian man. She had no choice but to obey.

But the greatest surprise came when she lifted her eyes to see him...

It was him — the same boy who had lived in her memory all those years. Now a handsome man of twenty-three, his features had deepened, his charm intensified. His name was Lorenzo di Belamore.

Despite her confusion, she found something in his embrace that felt like safety. She would wake at night screaming from nightmares, and he would hold her, whispering:

"I'm here... nothing will hurt you as long as I’m near. My breath is your fortress, and my arms are your only home... don’t cry, my life."

But one morning, his shirt accidentally caught fire, and later that night, she answered his phone without permission. He exploded with anger, yelling:

"Your father was right to treat you like a servant... You only understand punishment!"

He didn’t hit her, but his words left her trembling from the harshness.

That night, she awoke again from a nightmare — breathless, drenched in sweat. Lorenzo came to her, sat by her side, and held her close to his chest.

In a trembling voice, he asked:

"Was it... your father again?"

But she didn’t answer right away. Instead, she broke down in tears, clutching him tightly, as if clinging to life itself. Then she whispered:

"No... this time, it was you."