Chapter 1
Rain poured heavily, drumming against the roof of a large building, its rhythmic patter echoing through the silent rooms.
A woman sat nervously on the bed, fidgeting beneath a red veil, as though awaiting a wedding that had come too soon.
The veil fluttered slightly as the door creaked open, and a cold gust of wind swept into the room, making her shiver.
A man stepped inside—drenched from the rain, clad in black, his expression unreadably cold.
He moved deeper into the room, his steps slow but purposeful. As he drew closer, the woman instinctively inched backward, stumbling until her back pressed firmly against the headboard.
She looked up at him, wide-eyed. He stood tall and imposing, his broad shoulders casting a shadow over her. Dark, tousled hair clung to his forehead, framing a chiseled face with sharp cheekbones and a hard jawline that hinted at both nobility and danger. His piercing sky-blue eyes locked onto hers without a shred of warmth.
Suddenly, his hand shot out and grabbed her by the arms. His grip was tight, almost bruising, and he yanked her upward, drawing a small gasp from her parted lips.
Who was this man?
She had no idea, but something about his presence made her heart race—and not in a good way. Her eyes welled with tears from the pain of his grip, and the fear rising in her chest.
"Who are you? What do you want?" she asked, her voice trembling, hoping he'd at least offer an explanation.
His face remained unreadable as he replied, "I'm your new master. Or what did you think?" His voice was cold—too cold. And she wished it weren't.
She couldn't make sense of it all.
One moment, she'd been outside the palace walls—disregarding her father's warning—and the next, she was huddled on a bed, waiting for a buyer.
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A woman jolted upright in bed, drenched in sweat. She glanced up at the ceiling fan, still spinning, and sighed.
Curling up again, she hugged herself tightly, the remnants of her dream still vivid in her mind.
"Why am I having this dream again?" she muttered. "Different setting… same man, same words. Who was he, and why do I feel like I'm that girl?"
She wiped her eyes and froze when her fingers came away wet.
"Tears?" she whispered, startled.
Her gaze swept across her room, grounding herself in reality.
Then, just as she did every time she had that dream, she whispered her personal affirmation aloud:
"I'm not his—especially not a breeder. Who does he think he is?"
This wasn't the first time she had the dream. She had lost count of how many times it had returned—always with slight changes. One day, she'd be on a street, another day, in a war zone or a marketplace. Yet, the man always found her. He always came for her, claimed her, frightened her, and made her feel like she was his to own.
Every time, it made her blood boil.
As her brows knitted with frustration, her phone beeped, jolting her out of her thoughts.
She blinked, then reached for it. It was her alarm. A small smile curved her lips as she turned it off.
"It's time," she whispered, pushing the dream aside as she got out of bed.
She headed to the bathroom for a quick shower, then changed into the outfit she'd picked the night before—a blue floral dress paired with sleek black heels. She clipped back her blonde hair with a blue accessory, then glanced at herself in the mirror one last time.
Satisfied, she grabbed her bag and pulled out her phone, dialing a number.
"Bestieee!" a voice squealed from the other end. Rein winced and pulled the phone away from her ear.
"Ella…" she groaned, then returned the phone to her ear.
"Sorry! What's up?" Peace asked, chuckling.
"Just calling to confirm everything's ready at the restaurant—for the birthday surprise… and the proposal," Rein said, her voice softening.
There was a pause before Ella responded, her tone cautious.
"Rein… are you really sure about this? That man isn't exactly husband material. He's too controlling, and you know he's not the most trustworthy."
Then, more pointedly:
"You're actually going to propose? Once you do… there's no turning back."
It was exactly the kind of response Rein had expected from her best friend.
"I'm sure," she said firmly. "I want to spend my life with him."
Ella sighed. "Well, no one can talk you out of it. Everything's set up the way you wanted. The only thing missing now is the birthday boy—and his future wife."
"Thank you," Rein said, a smile returning to her face.
They ended the call soon after, and Rein grabbed her keys and left her apartment.
She drove to his place and walked up to the door. To her surprise, it wasn't locked.
Strange… she thought, but brushed the concern aside and stepped inside.
"Babe?" she called softly, her voice echoing in the stillness. No response.
Assuming he might be asleep, she walked towards the bedroom—until she heard a voice. A woman's voice. And she froze.
"I don't want to do this again!"
The words rang out clearly, sharp with emotion.
Rein's heart slammed in her chest. Who was that?
Had she entered the wrong apartment? But everything—the paint, the decor, the smell—was his. Unless his neighbor was a perfect clone, this was definitely her boyfriend's home.
Driven by a mix of dread and curiosity, she crept closer to the door.
Pressing her ear against it, she heard the voices more clearly.
"Why don't we stop this?" the woman said. Her voice sent a chill through Rein's spine. It sounded familiar—too familiar.
Then came his voice.
"Stop what? You started it. You seduced me because you were jealous of your sister."
The world shattered around her.
Her knees wobbled. Her heart broke. Cold sweat coated her skin. Her lips parted, but no words came. There was no mistaking his voice.
She couldn't breathe.
And before she could talk herself out of it, she flung the door open.
The sight hit her like a slap.
There he was—her boyfriend—curled up in bed with her stepsister.
Both completely naked.
The birthday surprise, the proposal, the future she'd imagined—it all died in that moment.