Chapter 1 – An Unchosen Marriage

Rain was still dripping outside the window as Vincent Estella stood in front of the long mirror in her dressing room, looking as beautiful as an angel. Her body was small—only the height of other women's shoulders—but her curves were clear, although her herself had never noticed them. Her fingers stroked the white dress slowly, afraid of ruining it.

“V-Vincent… r-ready.” She's spoke slowly, her voice soft, trembling a little as it usually does when she’s too anxious.

There was a knock on the door. Her father entered with a tense face. “We’re late. Alexander doesn’t like to wait.”

The name was enough to make Vincent’s heart beat faster. Alexander Donovan. Heir to the richest family in Dagmar. A tall, handsome man like a huge shadow standing behind all the important decisions of the country. Cold. Dominant. And now… her future husband.

Vincent swallowed. She never chose this. Never asked for anything in her life other than a quiet life, a mediocre job, and not being noticed by anyone. But the family wanted a secure future. Their way? Marrying him off.

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The ceremony went like a dream that went too fast. Vincent almost tripped as she walked to the altar, and Alexander—who was as tall as a wall—extended his hand without expression.

“Be careful,” his voice was low, firm, but not harsh.

 Vincent nodded quickly. “S-s… sorry.”

 Alexander’s eyes dropped to her face, as if studying her. Different from the gazes of other men who often looked at her body before. Alexander’s gaze… cold. Controlled. But sharp, as if able to see into her deepest thoughts.

After reciting the vows, Alexander didn’t kiss her forehead or do anything like other newlyweds. He just bowed slightly.

“Let’s go home.”

That was it.

The house wasn’t a house. It was a mansion. It was like a seven-star hotel that only two people lived in.

Vincent stepped in with small steps, his eyes wide. Everything was expensive, luxurious… and foreign.

Alexander unbuttoned his suit, then took off his black jacket. “Your room is on the second floor. We don’t have to share a room… for now.”

Vincent nodded quickly, trying to control his racing heart. “o-okay.”

Alexander moved closer. Vincent automatically bowed, feeling small—very small—in front of the sturdy man’s body.

“We got married because of circumstances.” Alexander spoke bluntly. “I won’t touch you without permission. And I don’t like drama. So don’t be afraid.”

Vincent raised his head slowly.

Alexander’s eyes… although cold… had a hint of respect. That made Vincent suddenly want to cry a little—not sad, but relieved.

“I-I… t-thank you.”

Alexander frowned slightly—surprised by the way Vincent spoke. “Do you always stutter?”

“W-when n-ner… nervous,” Vincent replied, his face red.

For the first time, Alexander turned his face slightly, as if holding back something—not a smile, but something soft that didn’t suit his cold nature.

“You… little,” he said slowly but honestly.

Vincent continued to sink into shame, hugging his own arms. “I-I k-know…”

“But don’t worry.” Alexander turned, picking up a work document in the living room. “I don’t eat people.”

That was the sweetest sentence from the man today.

The first night wasn’t what Vincent had imagined. He sat on his bed in his room, still wearing a slightly oversized nightgown. As he was about to close his eyes, there was a double knock on the door.

Alexander appeared.

Vincent stood still like a statue.

“Just now… you forgot to eat dinner,” he said, holding the hot soup tray. “Even if you want to sleep, don’t sleep hungry.”

Vincent looked at the soup, his eyes slightly glazed. “T-thank you…”

Alexander took a deep breath. “I’m not a good husband. Not yet. But I won’t let my wife get sick.”

The words were simple. But for Vincent, who lived in fear, they were enough to make his heart feel warm for the first time.

Alexander turned to leave.

But before he could close the door, Vincent spoke softly, very softly:

“G-goodnight… A-Alexander.”

The man stopped. His broad shoulders tensed slightly.

Then, without turning around:

“…Goodnight, Vincent.”

That was the beginning of something slow—very slow—but capable of shaking two souls who didn’t choose each other… but might one day have each other.