The evening air in the Black family mansion felt heavy with perfume and quiet authority. Crystal chandeliers glowed above the long mahogany table, where Mrs. Eleanor Black — elegant, graceful, and intimidatingly poised — sat across from Mr. and Mrs. Richard.

Fine china clinked softly as the butler poured tea. The faint sound of the piano echoed from the next room, where Travis’s older brother was entertaining other guests.

Eleanor smiled politely, the kind of smile that never quite reached her eyes.

> “I met your daughter, Luna, at the Greenworth charity gala last month,” she began, her voice calm but purposeful. “Such a beautiful, sweet girl. Polite, educated, and grounded — qualities I rarely see these days.”

Mr. Richard’s eyes lit up with pride that wasn’t entirely genuine. “Ah yes, Luna. She’s always been well-mannered. We tried our best to raise her right.”

His wife — Luna’s stepmother, Claudia — added quickly, “She’s been taught to respect traditions, Mrs. Black. Very obedient girl.”

Eleanor nodded approvingly. “That’s… wonderful.”

A moment of silence stretched. Then Eleanor placed her teacup down and looked directly at them.

> “I’ll be honest with you, Mr. Richard. I’ve been thinking about this for weeks. My youngest son, Travis… he’s at the age where he should be settling down. But after his heartbreak, he’s shut himself away. We thought— perhaps— if he met someone like Luna, it could bring him back to life.”

The words hung in the air like perfume — sweet but suffocating.

Mr. Richard’s hand froze midway to his cup. “You mean… a marriage?”

Eleanor’s faint smile deepened. “Yes. A marriage proposal. Between Travis and your daughter.”

Claudia’s face twitched — half surprise, half triumph. She glanced at her husband, whose company had been drowning in debt for months. This could change everything. The Blacks were not just rich — they were power itself.

> “Mrs. Black, this is… such an honor,” Claudia gushed, her voice suddenly sugary. “Luna will be perfect for him. She’s quiet, mature, and never argues. I’m sure she’ll adjust easily.”

Eleanor’s gaze sharpened slightly, catching the desperation behind the flattery. “I’m glad to hear that. I want a girl who can bring peace into my son’s world, not more noise.”

Mr. Richard swallowed hard. “We would be more than happy to consider this alliance.”

Eleanor smiled again, but this time, it felt final — like a deal was already done.

> “Then let us proceed. I’ll have our lawyers contact yours. Of course, we’ll handle all the arrangements.”

She stood, extending her hand gracefully. The meeting was over before they could even breathe.

Claudia clasped her hands together, feigning modesty. “Of course. Luna will be delighted.”

But deep inside, she knew Luna would be anything but.

Later that night…

In the Richard household, Luna was sitting by the window, sketchbook open on her lap, unaware that her future had just been sold like a business deal.

Her stepmother entered her room quietly, her lips curved in a practiced smile.

> “Pack your things, Luna. You’re about to marry into the Black family.”

Luna’s pencil slipped from her hand. “What?”

> “Mrs. Eleanor Black has chosen you for her son. Travis Black.”

Luna froze. Everyone in the city knew of Travis — the mysterious heir who never showed his face in public anymore, the one whispered to be unstable after his fiancée left him.

> “But… I don’t even know him,” she whispered.

Claudia’s smile turned sharp.

> “You don’t need to. Just remember what I’m telling you, Luna — this is your family’s only chance. Don’t you dare ruin it.”

Her voice lowered, colder.

> “And don’t come back home, even if you die there.”

The door shut softly behind her, leaving Luna alone in the silence — her reflection trembling in the glass window.

Outside, thunder rolled in the distance.

And somewhere across the city, in a dark, empty mansion, Travis Black played the piano for no one.

The Black family’s second estate sat far from the city—isolated, silent, and wrapped in the scent of rain and rotting roses.

Inside, every curtain was drawn, and sunlight hadn’t touched the floors in weeks.

Empty whiskey bottles rolled lazily across the marble. A single man sat in the corner of the large, dimly lit living room, slouched on a couch that had once been snow white but was now stained with amber rings.

Travis Black.

He hadn’t shaved in days. His dark hair was messy, and his shirt was half-buttoned, soaked with spilled alcohol.

The clock ticked.

He didn’t move.

On the table beside him—photographs. A woman with a laughing face. The same face he’d tried to forget a thousand times but couldn’t.

He lifted another glass to his lips, hand trembling.

> “To love,” he muttered hoarsely, voice dripping with sarcasm. “The biggest lie in the goddamn world.”

The butler, Mr. Hayden, entered quietly, carrying a tray of food. He had served the Blacks for decades, but even he tread lightly around Travis now.

> “Sir, you should eat something,” Hayden said softly.

Travis didn’t look up.

> “Leave it.”

> “You’ve not eaten since yesterday—”

A plate shattered against the wall before he could finish.

> “I said leave it, Hayden!”

The butler bowed silently, gathering the broken pieces. He’d long stopped arguing. Travis Black had become a ghost trapped inside his own mind.

---

Hours later, footsteps echoed down the hallway — sharp, deliberate, familiar.

Eleanor Black.

She didn’t knock before entering. The smell of alcohol and stale air hit her immediately, but she didn’t flinch. She had seen her son like this for months.

> “Travis,” she said firmly. “Turn on the light.”

He didn’t.

> “If you’re here to preach again, don’t waste your time.”

> “I’m here because I’ve made a decision,” she replied, stepping closer. “And you will listen.”

He looked up then — his eyes bloodshot, hollow, yet burning with restrained fury.

> “What decision?”

Eleanor’s gaze hardened. “You’re getting married.”

Travis let out a bitter laugh that sounded more like a growl.

> “Married? You’ve lost your mind, Mother.”

> “No, Travis. You have,” she shot back, her patience thinning. “You’ve locked yourself away for months. You drink yourself to death every night, and the media is beginning to notice. Do you have any idea what this is doing to our family name?”

> “I don’t care about the family name!” he shouted, slamming his glass on the table. “I didn’t ask to be your perfect son!”

> “Then stop acting like a child,” Eleanor snapped, her voice trembling between anger and exhaustion. “The world will not wait for you to feel better. You will marry this girl—Luna Richard—and you will learn to live again.”

He stood suddenly, knocking the glass over. “No. I won’t marry anyone! You can’t make me.”

Eleanor’s expression turned cold as steel.

> “If you refuse, I’ll cut your name from the family trust. Every company share, every property, every cent—gone.”

For the first time, Travis went still.

Eleanor’s tone softened slightly, almost regretful.

> “You leave me no choice, Travis. I’m your mother. I’ve watched you destroy yourself. This is the only way I can save you.”

He stared at her — eyes dark, jaw clenched, breath shaking.

> “You’re not saving me,” he whispered bitterly. “You’re burying me alive.”

She turned to leave, her heels clicking against the floor. At the door, she paused.

> “The wedding is in two weeks. Hayden will handle the arrangements. And Travis—try to look human that day.”

The door closed behind her.

Travis stood motionless for a long time. Then, with a roar of rage, he swept the bottles off the table.

Glass shattered everywhere.

He punched the wall until his knuckles bled.

Breathing heavily, he slumped back into the darkness, whispering to the empty room:

> “Luna Richard… whoever you are… stay away from me.”

Outside, thunder rumbled through the night again.

Inside, the man everyone once admired had become something else entirely — something dangerous, wounded, and waiting to break again.

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