CEO loves me with all his soul.

The rain poured relentlessly outside the grand mansion of the Hudel family, its cold droplets splattering against the tall windows that lined the corridors. The atmosphere inside was equally as frigid.

Adrian Hudel stood at the center of the room, his fists clenched tightly by his sides, trying to steady his racing heart.

He had been summoned here, back from abroad, with the vague promise of a family emergency, but nothing could have prepared him for what was coming.

Behind the large oak desk sat his father, Wuner Hudel, a man whose presence dominated every space he occupied.

With salt-and-pepper hair slicked back and cold, piercing eyes, Wuner emanated an air of authority that demanded obedience without question. His fingers drummed rhythmically on the desk, the only sound breaking the heavy silence, before he finally spoke.

Adrian has been beaten a lot by those hands that control all of the Hudel Family.

"You'll be getting married next week," Wuner said flatly, his voice devoid of warmth or concern. "To Ethan Levidis, the CEO of Twilight Company."

Adrian's breath caught in his throat.

Ethan Levidis? The Ethan Levidis? The man was practically a legend, known not just for his vast wealth but also for his mysterious absence from the public eye following a severe accident. And now, his father wanted him to marry this man—a man he had never met, a man who was now in a coma.

But wasn't it Wryn...

"Father… you can't be serious," Adrian finally managed to say, his voice trembling with disbelief. "I can't marry him. I'm not Wryn—I'm not the one who was supposed to be married. My passion is painting, not business, and certainly not marriage to someone I don't even know."

Wuner's gaze hardened, a flicker of anger passing over his features. "This is not a matter of passion, Adrian. This is about the family's reputation. Wryn has disgraced us by running away, and someone needs to take his place. You're the only option left."

An Option? It was not even surprising that his father will not even consider him to be human...more so his own child.

Adrian shook his head, taking a step back as if to distance himself from the absurdity of the situation. "But why me? Why can't you understand that I don't want this? I've never been the one you favored. Why must I bear the consequences of Wryn's actions?"

Wuner's expression darkened. He rose from his chair with deliberate slowness, the movement sending a shiver down Adrian's spine. The older man walked around the desk, closing the distance between them until he stood towering over Adrian, his shadow casting a dark pall over the younger man.

"You will do as I say," Wuner said, his voice low and dangerous. "This family has given you everything, and this is how you repay us? By refusing the one thing I ask of you?"

Adrian swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his father's words pressing down on him. He had always known that Wuner Hudel was a man of few affections, but this… this was beyond anything he could have imagined.

"No, Father," Adrian whispered, summoning the last vestiges of his courage. "I won't do it. I won't marry Ethan in Wryn's place. I'm not your puppet, and I won't sacrifice my life for the sake of the family's reputation."

I won't do it. Adrian made up his mind.

For a moment, Wuner stared at Adrian as if seeing him for the first time. Then, without warning, his hand shot out, striking Adrian across the face with a force that sent him staggering back. The sharp sound of the slap echoed through the room, followed by a silence that was somehow even heavier than before.

Adrian's cheek burned where his father's hand had connected, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the shock that surged through him. He pressed a hand to his stinging cheek, his vision blurring with unshed tears as he looked up at his father.

It was nothing new but why does it always hurt?

"Lock him in the basement," Wuner ordered coldly, his voice devoid of any hint of remorse. "Three days without food. Let him think about his disobedience."

Adrian's eyes widened in disbelief. "Father, please—"

But his pleas fell on deaf ears. Wuner grabbed Adrian's cell phone from the desk, where it had been lying unnoticed, and in one swift motion, he threw it against the wall. The phone shattered into pieces, scattering across the floor like broken glass. The destruction was a final, irrevocable act of control, severing Adrian's last connection to the outside world.

"Take him away," Wuner commanded, turning his back on Adrian as if the conversation were already over.

Two servants, who had been standing silently by the door, stepped forward and seized Adrian by the arms. He struggled weakly, his mind reeling from the rapid turn of events, but his strength was no match for theirs. They dragged him toward the door, his feet scraping against the marble floor as he was pulled away from the room where his fate had been decided without him.

"Why?" Adrian's voice broke as he was pulled toward the doorway. "Why are you so harsh with me? Why do you hate me so much?"

For a moment, Wuner paused, his back still turned to his son. Then, in a voice dripping with disdain, he spoke words that cut deeper than any physical blow.

"Because you disgust me, Adrian. You're a constant reminder of everything that's wrong with this family. You're not fit to bear the Hudel name."

The words struck Adrian like a dagger to the heart. He wanted to scream, to shout that it wasn't fair, that he had done nothing to deserve this treatment. But the words stuck in his throat, choked by the tears that now streamed freely down his face.

It was your own mistake...

As he was dragged down the long, dark corridor toward the basement, the reality of his situation began to sink in. His father didn't just dislike him—he hated him, saw him as nothing more than an obstacle, a nuisance to be dealt with. And now, he was being forced into a marriage that was never meant for him, with a man he had never met, all because he had been born into the wrong family.

The basement door loomed ahead, a heavy, iron thing that creaked ominously as it was pushed open. The servants shoved Adrian inside, the door slamming shut behind him with a finality that made his heart drop. The darkness closed in around him, thick and suffocating, as he stumbled blindly forward, his hands outstretched to find some semblance of stability in the pitch-black void.

He found the cold, damp wall and sank to the floor, his knees drawn up to his chest as he buried his face in his hands. The silence was overwhelming, pressing down on him from all sides, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the harsh reality of his father's cruelty.

The tears came then, unstoppable and uncontrollable, as the weight of his situation crushed him. He cried for the loss of his freedom, for the betrayal of the father he had once longed to please, and for the bleak future that awaited him—a future where he would be bound to a man in a coma, a man he had never met, all for the sake of a family that had never truly been his.

And as the hours stretched on, with no light, no food, and no hope, Adrian Hudel curled up on the cold, hard floor of the basement, the words of his father echoing endlessly in his mind.

"You disgust me…"

They were words he would never forget, words that would haunt him in the days and nights to come, as he was forced to face the reality of the life that had been thrust upon him.

But beneath the sorrow, beneath the tears, a small, flickering flame of defiance remained.

He would survive this, somehow. He would find a way to endure, to fight back against the fate that had been forced upon him. And perhaps, in the end, he would find something worth living for, something that would make the pain and suffering bearable.

But for now, all he could do was wait—wait for the moment when he would be dragged from this darkness and thrust into the light of a future he did not want, but one he would face with whatever strength he had left.

Because if there was one thing Adrian Hudel had learned in his short life, it was that nothing was ever truly as it seemed. Not family, not love, and certainly not fate.1