In the country's capital, a bustling metropolis where business tycoons converge.
In this land where every square inch is worth its weight in gold, the upscale gated community a high-end villa area surrounded by towering iron fences. Which stays relatively hidden among the various enterprises owned by the Brooks family in the heart of the city.
Six months ago, the two influential business families, the Brooks and Sanders families, united through marriage. This powerful partnership created waves throughout the entire Asian business scene.
Yet the cherished daughter of the Sanders family, once doted upon by her father, has since lived in this very villa after the wedding.
Now, inside the Jardin Villa.
On the plush, sinfully soft Baxter bed, a man with heavy breaths pinned the woman’s slender wrists, so delicate they seemed as if they could snap with a mere squeeze. Burying his face in the smooth curve of her neck, he moved atop her in the most primal rhythm, the pungent scent of alcohol thick in the air.
Beneath him, the woman clenched her fists.
Her meticulously manicured nails dug deep into her palms, drawing beads of crimson blood.
A night of relentless taking and turning, and the stark red stain on the sheets marked her transition from girl to being a woman.
Dressed only in a simple white dress, Ysabel stood before the expansive floor-to-ceiling window.
Her mother’s desperate pleas echoed in her ears.
"Ysabel, listen to me. No matter what, you must go to Alexander. We need that investment from the Brooks Group, or our family will be done."
"Your father has already collapsed. I’m out of options. If the company falls, he won’t survive the blow."
"Ysabel, just... endure it. Go to Alexander. He may not love you, but you’re beautiful, surely that counts for something."
Lost in thought, Ysabel gently drew back the bedroom curtains.
A sliver of crimson-tinged morning light spilled into the room. She raised her hand to shield her eyes, but the sunlight still filtered through her fingers, casting a glow on her delicate yet gaunt face.
At the same time, the man lying in bed turned over impatiently. His finely shaped lips were slightly pursed, tempting enough to make one want to kiss them. But when his eyes opened, those dark, fathomless pupils. Deep enough to pull one into an abyss, sent an inexplicable chill down the spine.
"You're awake?" Ysabel stood by the window, her cheeks flushing as memories of last night's recklessness surfaced.
The man, however, acted as though he hadn't heard her at all. His expression was icy, as cold as a thousand-year frost. Without a word, he swiftly got up, gathered the clothes scattered across the floor, dressed, and headed for the door.
"Alexander, wait!" Panicked at his departure, Ysabel hurried after him. But the exhaustion from the previous night left her legs weak, and after just two steps, she stumbled and fell hard onto the floor.
"Ah..." A soft thud and her pained gasp reached Alexander's ears.
He stopped in his tracks and turned, his gaze frigid. "What are you doing? Playing the victim? Thinking this will make me save your precious Sanders Corporation?"
Even as she lay there in disarray, not a trace of sympathy flickered in his eyes. Only undisguised disgust.
"What a schemer! Did she really think crawling into his bed while he was drunk would change anything?"
The moment those words left his lips, Ysabel's delicate brows knitted together in frustration. She lifted her gaze to meet his, her voice trembling with indignation. "Alexander, I'm your wife! How could you even think that of me?"
For the past six months, she had endured nothing but his cold indifference and cruel humiliation.
Why...why did he always have to treat her this way?
