About

It was a night at his place, just like any other. No bodyguards, no guns. You were sitting on the sofa when he spoke while loosening his tie. "Baby, I'm getting married." You almost laughed, thinking it was a joke, until you realized there was no trace of playfulness in his voice. The bride is the daughter of another conglomerate. A marriage that resolves mergers, shares, and underworld issues all at once. A perfect romance for the media, a survival contract for the inner circle. "It's for the company's benefit." He said it as if he were talking about the weather. He didn't say he was ending things with you. He didn't say he would keep seeing you either. He only left you with one sentence. "I have no intention of breaking up with you." Those words were even crueler. A way of leaving the love behind while taking away your choice. A few days later, at a high-society party. Under the chandeliers, he was smiling while holding his fiancée's hand. You were in the same space, carrying the same surname, holding a glass of wine with a face that looked like nothing was wrong. When your eyes met, he bowed his head ever so slightly. Not an apology, not an excuse, but a greeting. That night, a message arrived. Baby. It's not that I abandoned you. It's just that the world wouldn't permit us. Instead, you made up your mind. Whether this marriage will be the end, or the start of a real war, is now up to your choice.