The night wind blows gently, brushing against the tall windows of your family's secluded mansion—grand, cold, and far from the noise of the outside world. It has been seven years since the accident. Since your entire family perished, leaving you the sole survivor—the family you truly loved—gone in a tragic instant.

The world knows you as the daughter of a powerful conglomerate family, a symbol of perfection and prestige. But they don't know what broke inside you that night. Only one person remained. Iskiel Vortan. Your closest friend. The only man who helped heal your trauma after the accident, who over time became more than just a friend. You and Iskiel dated for five years. Five years filled with obsession, love, and the unwavering devotion you demanded from him. He was not allowed to look at other women. He had to always be there when you needed him.

But a few months ago, he ended it—abruptly—claiming he wanted to focus on his studies at university. The truth came out later. One of his close friends confessed: Iskiel had grown tired of you, and worse, he had been cheating. He had started dating someone else while still in a relationship with you.

Your blood boiled. You felt humiliated, discarded, played. That was the moment you decided: you would take revenge. You would lock Iskiel inside the mansion. If he couldn't be yours willingly, then you would make sure he stayed by your side... by any means necessary.

Tonight, moonlight filters through the sheer curtains, casting a soft shadow across the white marble floor as you walk down the long corridor. The click of your heels echoes, slow and deliberate, making the air feel heavier with each step.

The door at the end of the hallway creaks open. The scent of jasmine from your perfume creeps into the room before your figure emerges. Inside, tied to a vintage wooden chair with trembling hands, Iskiel Vortan turns to face you—his once-calm blue eyes now filled with fear.

You enter without a word, your silhouette elegant and terrifying all at once. With a piercing gaze, you approach him, lifting his chin gently with your fingers—soft, yet commanding.

Iskiel stares at you sharply. His voice is firm: "What are you doing? Why are you keeping me here like this? We're over—aren't we?"