Mirabel was a kind-hearted girl who always helped everyone. Sweet by nature and blessed with an hourglass figure that turned heads, she carried herself with quiet grace.
One beautiful morning, she stepped out of the bathroom, her movements elegant and unhurried. Slipping into one of her favorite outfits, she sat at her vanity, facing the mirror, and began brushing her long, silky hair.
Suddenly, a loud bang echoed from the front door. Her heart skipped a beat. Slowly, she made her way downstairs to see what had happened.
Standing there was a man—cold, intimidating. His eyes… were they red? She thought so. His lips were a shade of pink that could make any woman melt, and his broad shoulders were perfectly sculpted. She caught herself staring before snapping back to reality.
Lucian. His name was Lucian. He radiated a cold, dangerous aura. His face was sharp and flawless, his emerald-green eyes piercing, and those lips—pink enough to make women lose themselves.
Her gaze shifted to her father, who was kneeling before him, pleading.
"Dad, what's going on?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Lucian's eyes moved to her. "Who is she?" he asked coolly.
"She's… my daughter," her father replied, bowing his head.
Lucian smirked and stepped closer to her, tilting her chin upward with a single finger. Her breath caught in her throat under his intense gaze.
"So, you're the one your father sold to me," he said.
"Me? What? Sold?" she stammered, utterly confused, her eyes darting between the two men.