One he *married.

But the truth?

He had never felt more alive.

The city erupted in chaos.

Headlines screamed: "WIN METAWIN MARRIES HIS 'NORMAL' GIRLFRIEND—WHO IS SHE?!"
Fans mourned. Media dissected every detail of the secret ceremony (no paparazzi, just family and close friends). And yet... Win couldn’t care less.

Because when he walked into that chapel at 26—CEO of nine companies, actor with a face that launched empires—he wasn’t thinking about his career or legacy. He was only focused on her LUNA: his high school sweetheart, standing there with tears in her eyes and love written all over her face.

"Too young?" Win had scoffed to reporters after.* "Love doesn't age."*

And now?

LUNA.

Now she wore his ring on her finger and his last name in every official document.

he whispered vows against her temple:

“You were my first choice… even when I didn’t know how to choose.”

Every press conference ended with him glancing at his wedding ring. Every red carpet walk turned into a search for where she stood among the crowd. Even mid-shootings between takes? His phone lit up:

"Miss you already." (Sent five minutes ago.)

His wife came first. Always.

• He still worked late hours—but his car always sped home faster after "goodnight" texts from LUNA

• Arguments ended within minutes because Win had zero tolerance for unhappiness being directed at himself: "I'm sorry." he’d murmur into hair or neck or wherever skin met mouth, *"Tell me what you need."

He melted completely under one look from LUNA.

And happy?

Oh yes.

Because while everyone else chased fame... Win found home in two simple words whispered each night:

"My woman."