PROLOGUE — “A STORY THAT SHOULD HAVE ENDED DIFFERENTLY” There are stories where love saves. And then— There are stories where love destroys. This… is the latter. Once, there lived a man who believed he understood love. He believed in whispered promises, in warm touches, in words that sounded like forever. He trusted blindly, loved deeply, and chose without hesitation. And in doing so— He chose wrong. Not far from him stood another man. Bound to him not by choice, but by fate. A man who never asked for love… yet gave it anyway. Silently. Patiently. Endlessly. He was not loud in his affection, nor demanding in his presence. He did not fight to be seen, nor beg to be understood. He simply stayed. Even when he was unwanted. Even when he was hated. Even when he was blamed for a crime he never committed— Stealing a heart that was never his to begin with. The tragedy was not in their meeting. Nor in their forced union. It was in the misunderstanding that grew like poison between them. One believed himself trapped. The other… devoted. One burned with resentment. The other endured with quiet love. And in the shadows— There were those who watched. Who planned. Who whispered lies sweet enough to be mistaken for truth. Greed wears many faces. Sometimes, it looks like love. The night it ended— There was no storm. No thunder. No warning. Only silence. And betrayal. A hand that once trembled in affection… Did not tremble when it chose destruction. A life that once held warmth… Spilled onto the cold floor without protest. And the man who should have cursed his fate— Smiled instead. Forgave instead. Loved… until his very last breath. It was not justice that followed. Only ruin. A broken family. A shattered name. A truth revealed too late. And a man left behind with nothing but the weight of what he had done. Because regret— Is the cruelest punishment of all. It does not kill quickly. It lingers. It whispers. It reminds. Again and again— Of the moment everything could have been different. And yet— Even in a story soaked in blood and betrayal… There was something unexpected. Not mercy. Not forgiveness. But a plea. A soul, long gone, still chose love. Still chose him. Still begged the heavens— Not for justice. But for another chance. Perhaps that is what changed fate. Or perhaps— Even the divine could not ignore a love so foolishly pure. So the story did not end. It turned. Rewound. Returned— To the very beginning. To a moment where nothing had broken yet. Where choices had not been made. Where lies had not taken root. Where love… Still had a chance to become something else. But second chances are not gifts. They are tests. And this time— The man who once destroyed everything… Will have to decide— Whether he is worthy of rewriting a story He once turned into a tragedy.