Chapter 1 One Night

• Rania stood frozen in the corner of the grand room, her eyes fixed on the couple standing side by side in the center of the cheering guests. Light glinting from the crystal chandeliers fell across the wide smile of Arkan, the man who had been the center of her world for three years. The man who only yesterday had sworn he would never turn away, now stood tall beside Isabel, smiling as if he had never broken a single promise. Every laugh echoing through the room felt like a stinging blow to her cheek, hot and humiliating.
• Arkan’s voice carried clearly, cutting through Rania’s caught breath.
• “And with this, our engagement is officially confirmed. Nothing shall ever tear us apart.”
• It felt as though the blood had stopped flowing in Rania’s veins. Only the day before, Arkan had come to call off their own engagement, with reasons that had shattered her heart. Now, on the day that should have belonged to her, he stood there beside another woman. The words he had spoken yesterday still rang clearly in her mind, sharp and cruel.
• Rania’s family had fallen into ruin. Their business was on the brink of collapse, and Arkan refused to let his future be weighed down by burdens that were not his to bear.
• Isabel smiled with quiet pride, her fingers laced tightly through Arkan’s. “You have made the right choice. My family will ensure your position remains secure.”
• Rania bit down hard on her lip until the taste of salt filled her mouth. She swallowed hard, fighting to hold back the sobs that threatened to break free, as hundreds of pairs of eyes turned toward her. Eyes filled with pity, with scorn, with sympathy.
• On the day that should have marked their own engagement, she stood as a silent witness to three years of love being cast aside for wealth and power. There was no long explanation, no apology. Only the truth that she was now penniless, and so, worthless.
• She knew there was nothing she could do. Her father had been betrayed by his own brother. Documents had been forged, assets frozen, and overnight, a business built over decades had crumbled to dust. Arkan had learned the truth, and chosen to leave at her darkest hour. Shame crept up into her chest, burning alongside the heartache that felt as though it would consume her. She could not bear to look at Arkan’s face, so calm, so utterly free of guilt. Surrounded by glittering opulence and celebration, she felt like the most wretched, lonely person alive.
• No one drew near. No one spoke to her. It was as though everyone had stepped away in an instant, as if the poverty that had befallen her family was contagious, poisoning the very air around her.
• Rania walked to the refreshment table, picked up a glass, and drank it all down in one go. She let the burning heat slide down her throat and settle in her stomach, hoping the sharp pain in her chest would fade along with the liquid. When the glass was empty, she reached for another, and then another.
• She paid no mind to the glances of the guests who had noticed her. The pain in her heart was far heavier than the fire spreading through her body.
• Alcohol began to cloud her mind, casting a soft haze over the music and laughter all around her. Yet every time her gaze fell upon Arkan, smiling as he held Isabel close, the pain returned, sharper than before. Rania lifted another glass and drank until it was empty, letting her awareness slip away little by little. She did not want to remember Arkan’s face. She did not want to remember the empty promises he had once made to her. She only wanted this pain to stop, if only for a little while.
• Her head grew heavy, her vision blurred. She drew a deep breath, only to feel her chest tighten. She walked with unsteady steps, putting distance between herself and the crowd, away from the eyes of the man who no longer seemed to know her. Her legs felt heavy and unsteady, her knees suddenly weak. As she hurried her pace, her heel caught on the edge of the thick carpet. She stumbled forward, and the silk gown she wore caught on the corner of a table, tearing a long gash along its side and exposing the pale skin beneath.
• Rania pitched forward, bracing herself to strike the cold, smooth floor. But her body never made contact. A pair of strong, warm hands caught her swiftly, holding her steady in a firm, unyielding embrace. Her fingers curled into the front of his shirt, her breath caught in her throat as she looked up, her vision still swimming.
• The man stood tall, holding her close without the slightest hint of embarrassment or hesitation. An air of quiet authority and cool command surrounded him, as though the very temperature around them had dropped. Rania looked up through the haze clouding her sight, and met a pair of dark eyes gazing back at her, intense yet steady.
• His face was strikingly handsome, though not a flicker of a smile touched his lips. His jaw was strong and sharply defined, his mouth thin and set in a firm line. His presence was so commanding that for a moment, it felt as though the entire world had fallen still around her.
• The man looked down at her intently, studying her as though she were something unfamiliar, yet something he could not bring himself to look away from.
• “Your gown is torn,” he said. His voice was deep and low, sounding as though he rarely spoke to anyone at all. “Come with me.”
• Rania asked no questions. Her senses were reeling, her legs too weak to support her. She gave a faint nod, and let him lead her away from the crowd, into an elevator, and finally into a spacious, beautifully furnished room that was quiet and still. His private quarters.
• He guided her gently to sit on the edge of the bed. He fetched a simple change of clothing from the wardrobe and laid it beside her.
• “Change your clothes. I will wait outside.”
• He turned to leave. Rania reached out, her trembling fingers closing around his wrist. Her head spun, her breath coming fast, and all she could make out was the broad, steady outline of his back.
• “Who are you?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Why are you helping me?”
• The man turned slowly. His gaze swept over her pale face, then dropped to the exposed skin revealed by the tear in her gown. Something shifted deep within his ice-dark eyes. A spark of heat he had not felt in years flared to life, sudden and uncontrollable. He stepped forward, stopping directly before her as she looked up at him, bewildered.
• “My name does not matter to you tonight,” he answered in a low tone.
• Rania looked up, her breath catching as he brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. His touch was warm, deliberate, sending shivers racing across every inch of her skin. She did not pull away. Grief and alcohol had stripped away every defense she had left, leaving her starved for touch, starved for any warmth that might help her forget the agony tearing at her heart.
• “Forget everything,” she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Hold me. Just for tonight.”
• The man looked down at her soft, parted lips. The iron control he had held tight for decades suddenly fractured. He leaned down and brushed his mouth over hers. His kiss was gentle at first, exploring. When Rania sighed softly and curled her arms around his neck, his restraint shattered completely. The kiss turned hot, fierce, and demanding. Rania answered him without hesitation, letting everything fall away. Arkan, his betrayal, her heartbreak. She surrendered herself entirely to the warmth spreading through her veins.
• He laid her back gently upon the soft mattress. His hands moved surely, removing the remains of her clothing. Rania offered no resistance. Her eyes were closed, her mind hazy, yet every touch felt vivid and searingly real. She did not know who this man was. She did not know that the man taking her with such deliberate strength was Aleksander William, father of the very woman who had just stood beside Arkan.
• A sharp, stinging pain shot through her, and Rania winced, her fingers digging into his shoulders.
• “It hurts,” she breathed.
• His movements stilled. He looked down to meet her eyes, fluttered shut. He understood then. Rania was untouched. She had belonged to no one before him. Something inside him hardened, and melted all at once. He moved again, gentler now, yet still claiming her as his own, utterly and irrevocably.
• That night, in the quiet of that luxurious room, Rania became entirely his. The pain slowly faded, replaced by a rising, sweeping pleasure that carried them both to the same heights. Rania let the world fall away, giving her heart and body to a man whose face she had not even truly seen.
• When it was over, Rania fell asleep in his arms. Her breathing was steady, her face peaceful though still pale. Aleksander rose and stood beside the bed, redressing his clothing with neat precision, as though nothing out of the ordinary had just taken place. He looked down at the sleeping girl. The faint marks upon her skin were undeniable proof that he had taken something most precious from her. And he did not regret it, not even for a moment.
• Rania belonged to him now.
• Aleksander stepped out and closed the door softly behind him. He returned to his daughter’s engagement party, still in full swing. But his mind had stayed behind in that room. He could see Rania’s face before his eyes, her glistening gaze, the sound of her breath, and the bitter truth that had only just fully settled in his mind. Arkan, the man now betrothed to his daughter, had cast aside the woman who would one day become his greatest weakness, and his greatest strength.