"No. I will never marry him." I shot to my feet, my voice trembling with rage. "They say he's a killer, a madman, that half his face was destroyed! You're sending me to my death!"

Bang! My father, Antonio, slammed his hand on the desk, making the teacups rattle. "You don't have a choice! The Rossi family is on the verge of collapse. Only an alliance with the Valerius family can save us. And you, Alessia, are the only thing of value you have to offer."

I fought back tears and demanded, "Why me? Why not Bianca?"

My father looked away. "Your sister is too delicate. As the older sister, it's your responsibility."

I looked at his cold, heartless face, and my own heart went cold.

This was my father. For his precious younger daughter and the family's interests, he would throw me into the fire without a second thought.

"Then I'd rather be thrown out of this house and cut all ties with the Rossi family!" I said through gritted teeth.

"Cut ties?" Genevieve let out a cold laugh.

She walked over to a safe, opened it, and took out a fine wooden box and a yellowed, worn-out book of sheet music.

The moment I saw the music, my breath caught in my throat.

It was the Chopin book my mother had left me, filled with her handwritten notes from when she taught me to play.

It was the most precious thing she had left me in this world.

"Alessia, what do you think would happen if I sold off this jewelry, and then threw this trash into the fireplace and watched it turn to ash…" Genevieve's fingers traced the cover of the book, her eyes glinting with malice.

"Don't touch it!" I screamed, trying to lunge forward, but two bodyguards held me back.

"Just be a good girl and marry him. In three years, when the contract is up, I'll give all of this back to you, untouched," Genevieve said, looking down at me like I was a pathetic insect. "Otherwise, you'll never see any of it again."

Tears welled in my eyes. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood.

They had me.

"Let me… think about it for a night," I said, closing my eyes in despair.

Back in my dark, damp attic room, I shakily opened my old laptop and searched for everything I could find on "Caspian Valerius."

What I found made my blood run cold.

I’d heard he was ruthless, but I never imagined the chilling titles and stories attached to his name.

"The Butcher," "The Night King," "The Monster Who Put a Bullet in His Own Uncle's Head"... every label came with a bloody rumor.

In a brutal firefight, half his face had been burned, and he had since retreated into the shadows, his methods becoming even more savage.

I only found one photo of him, his profile half-hidden in shadow.

The man in the picture had a jawline as sharp as a knife and eyes so dark they could swallow you whole.

I opened the marriage contract again.

It was for a term of three years.

If I could just survive three years with this monster, I could get my mother's things back and finally be free.

It was a gamble with my life.

The next morning, I walked downstairs calmly.

At the dining table, my father and Genevieve were elegantly cutting their steaks.

They paused when they saw me.

"I'll sign," I said, walking to the table, my voice steady. "But I have one condition. Besides my mother's belongings, I want one million dollars. The money has to be in my private account before the wedding."

"A million? Are you crazy!" Genevieve slammed her fork down. "You greedy little thing!"

"No money, and I'll jump from the roof of this house today," I said, looking at her coldly. "Then you can send Bianca to that monster yourselves."

My father's face twisted.

He stared at me, then finally gritted his teeth and held back the furious Genevieve. "Fine. I agree. The money will be in your account tomorrow. The wedding is the day after. You'd better not try any more tricks."

As I turned to go back to my room, I ran into Bianca in the hallway.

She was wearing a beautiful new dress, a smug, vicious smile on her face.

She leaned in close to my ear and whispered with a laugh:

"Enjoy your life in hell, sister. You're about to get into bed with the devil himself."

The wedding was held in a hidden, cold church on the outskirts of Chicago.

There were no flowers, no guests, not even a hymn. The air was thick with the smell of old mildew and a chilling silence.

I was wearing a cheap, second-hand dress Genevieve had picked out.

The hem was yellowed and the waist was loose and ill-fitting—just another one of her ways to humiliate me. I was used to it.

Standing in the middle of the church, I felt less like a bride and more like a prisoner on her way to the gallows.

Click.

The heavy wooden doors of the church creaked open.

A cold draft blew in, along with the sound of heavy, rhythmic footsteps.

I held my breath and turned my head.

In that instant, my eyes widened.

The man who strode in was even taller than I'd imagined.

He wore a perfectly tailored black suit that accentuated his broad shoulders and narrow waist. Every step he took radiated a suffocating pressure.

But what shocked me most was his face.

The rumors said he was a disfigured, ugly monster.

But the man before me had a face so handsome it was almost unnatural.

His features were as sharp as a marble sculpture, his skin a sickly pale, and his deep green eyes were bottomless pits.

There were no scars on his face, no sign of disfigurement at all.

This was Caspian Valerius, the most feared king of Chicago's underworld.

He didn't even glance at me.

From the moment he walked in, he was speaking in a low voice to the lawyer beside him, his expression so cold it was as if he were here to sign a simple business contract.

"Let's begin," Caspian said, walking to the priest.

The priest began reading the vows, saying something about "for better or for worse," but it was obvious that neither of us took it seriously.

"The bride and groom may now exchange rings."

One of Caspian's men presented a black velvet box.

He reached out with his long, well-defined fingers and picked up the cold platinum diamond ring.

He grabbed my hand, with no gentleness whatsoever, and slid the ring onto my finger with a cold, hard motion.

His fingertips were so cold they sent a shiver through me.

Next, the lawyer placed the marriage agreement in front of us.

I picked up the pen with a trembling hand, but just as I was about to sign, I heard a soft, cold laugh.

"You're not Bianca Rossi."

Caspian turned his head slightly, and those green eyes finally landed on my face.

His gaze was as sharp as a blade, as if it could cut me open and see through all my pretenses.

My heart skipped a beat, and my hand froze. "I…"

"The Rossi family has some nerve, pulling a switch like this."

I didn't know what to say. All I could think was, It's over. He's going to kill me.

But Caspian just snorted and casually signed his name on the agreement.

"But it doesn't matter," he said, straightening up and looking down at me. "I don't care who's sitting in this spot. To me, you and Bianca are no different. You're just a placeholder."

The ceremony was over.

No hug, no kiss.

I was shoved into his black Rolls-Royce.

The car sped off, finally stopping in front of a heavily guarded private estate on the edge of the city.

Caspian got out first and strode into the mansion. I followed behind him like a frightened puppet, holding up my ill-fitting dress.

"Mr. Valerius." An elderly butler greeted him respectfully.

"This is my wife. Get her a room. The rest is up to you," Caspian announced my identity casually.

The butler only flinched for a second before nodding respectfully. "Yes, sir."

After giving his orders, Caspian turned to leave.

He looked busy.

Just before he walked out the door, he paused, turned his head slightly, and said to me in a meaningful tone:

"Remember, be good. Don't do anything you're not supposed to. It'll make your life a lot easier."

There was nothing festive about my wedding night at the Valerius estate.

The butler, Albert, was a kind old man. He said to me respectfully, "Madam, your room is the first on the left on the third floor. Please get some rest."

"Thank you, Albert," I said, exhausted.

The day had been a whirlwind, and my mind was a mess.

Walking on the thick, soft carpet, I felt like I was floating.

When I got to the third floor, I pushed open a door, not even noticing I'd gone to the right instead of the left.

I gave the room a quick glance. It was sparse, decorated in a cold black and white. Nothing special.

I didn't think much of it. I quickly washed up, changed into a slip dress, and buried myself in the bed, which smelled faintly of fir trees.

The scent was surprisingly calming, and I fell asleep almost instantly.

Sometime in the middle of the night, I felt something was wrong.

The fir scent in the air grew stronger, accompanied by a heavy, dangerous presence.

I felt a hot, cold gaze locked on me. Then, a cold, rough finger slowly traced my neck.

The finger moved down my collarbone, a sign of deadly danger.

I snapped my eyes open.

In the moonlight, a handsome face was hovering above me.

Caspian was wearing a half-open black shirt, the muscles of his chest faintly visible. He was looking down at me.

"Ah—!" I gasped, instinctively trying to back away, but I was already at the edge of the bed.

"Why are you in my bed?" Caspian's voice was low and raspy, laced with a dangerous edge.

His fingers tightened on my chin. "Alessia, did you forget what I said today? Or… are you that desperate to climb into my bed and secure your position?"

"No! I'm not!" I shook my head frantically, stammering, "The butler said… he said the left, I went to the wrong room! I really did!"

"The wrong room?" He sneered, leaning closer, his warm breath on my face. "What a pathetic excuse."

"I'm not lying! I'll leave right now!"

Desperate to prove myself, I tried to push myself up.

But my foot got tangled in the sheets, and I lost my balance. Instead of escaping, I fell forward, right into Caspian.

We both tumbled onto the soft, massive bed.

Not only did I fall on top of him, but my lips crashed into his.

I stared, wide-eyed. Time seemed to stop.

His lips were cool, but the moment they touched mine, it was like a jolt of electricity shot down my spine.

Caspian's pupils constricted, and the hand on my waist tightened.

I snapped back to reality, terrified. With a strength I didn't know I had, I shoved him away and scrambled off the bed.

I didn't even bother with shoes. I fled barefoot, like a spooked rabbit, back to my own room.

Only after I locked the door did I lean against it, gasping for air, my heart pounding in my chest.

Thinking about that "kiss," I was mortified and terrified.

Oh God, was he going to kill me tomorrow?

The next morning, I woke up in a daze as sunlight streamed into the room.

When I went downstairs, Albert had already prepared a lavish breakfast for me.

"The master left early for family business, Madam," Albert said with a smile.

Hearing Caspian was gone, the tension I'd held all night finally eased.

After last night's disaster, I had no idea how I was going to face him.

After breakfast, I wandered aimlessly through the huge mansion.

As I passed through a dim hallway on the first floor, a half-open door to a side room caught my eye.

I gently pushed it open and saw a grand piano standing silently in the corner.

As if possessed, I walked over and lifted the white sheet covering it.

A perfect black B?sendorfer was revealed. It reminded me of how my mother used to gently teach me on a piano just like this.

A wave of sadness washed over me. I slowly sat down, my fingers trembling as they touched the cool keys.

Dong—

A clear note echoed in the empty room.

I closed my eyes and let my fingers fly across the keys. I started playing the Chopin nocturne my mother had taught me.

The music, at first hesitant, grew fluid and passionate.

I felt like I was back in the days when my mother was alive, back in an afternoon filled with sunshine and music.

Tears streamed down my face, splashing onto the black and white keys.

I was completely lost in my own world until the final note slowly faded.

I slowly opened my eyes, about to wipe my tears, when I felt an undeniable presence behind me.

I whipped my head around.

Caspian had returned at some point.

He was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. For the first time, his cold green eyes weren't filled with indifference or mockery. Instead, they held a look I couldn't quite decipher.

I jumped, scrambling to my feet and wringing my hands. "I'm sorry, Mr. Valerius. I didn't mean to touch your things, I just…"

I expected him to yell at me, to punish me, just like my father and stepmother would have.

But Caspian just slowly straightened up and walked toward me.

He looked at my red-rimmed eyes and was silent for a long moment.

"Not bad," he murmured, his voice a low rumble.