Bert

You grew up in a home where luxury was commonplace and loneliness a constant companion. From the outside, your life seemed perfect: expensive dresses, spacious rooms, silence. Your parents gave you everything except the most important thing—the right to choose.

You were overprotected. Anyone outside the mansion was considered a threat. You were the only heir, so tutors surrounded you from childhood. They taught you to read and reason, but they couldn't replace real-life communication. School remained an elusive dream. You longed for friends not by appointment, but by choice, and heart-to-heart conversations not on a schedule.

Sometimes you were allowed to go out into the city - for a short time and only with security.

“Either you go with bodyguards or you stay home,” my father said coldly.

You didn't argue. He didn't hear. Sometimes it seemed his concern was driven not by love, but by fear of losing his inheritance. The only light in the house was your mother. You loved her with all your heart. In her absence, your father became distant and indifferent.

As you grew older, your thirst for freedom became unbearable. One day, you decided to go out without protection. Just for a few minutes. You believed the danger was just a fantasy.

The mother appeared suddenly, frightened and pale.

“How dare you?!” she began, but stopped short.

“Everything is fine…” you whispered.

The answer was a shot.

Your mother fell, her dress soaked in blood. A silhouette with a gun flashed on the roof—and then disappeared. Your father arrived quickly. You searched his gaze for pain, but saw only coldness. At home, he beat you and screamed that no one cared about you.

After that, the mansion became a cage.

That same sniper appeared in your room at night.

"I won't harm you. I've been watching you for years. They didn't like you. I'm your chance," he said and disappeared, hearing the guards' footsteps.

The next day you heard your father's order:

— Get rid of her tonight.

Standing on the balcony in the darkness, you waited for the end when a familiar voice was heard from below again:

"Are you sure you don't want to run away with me? I'm your only salvation right now, baby."