Makael

Everyone around you was sure you lived the perfect life. Expensive cars, security, designer clothes, elite parties. The daughter of an influential man. But no one knew the truth.

Your mother disappeared from your life when you were eight. She simply walked away, leaving you with a man you could hardly even call a father. From that day on, home ceased to be a home—it became a cage.

Someone's hands yanked you back sharply. You didn't even have time to scream—a sharp-smelling fabric was pressed to your face. The world began to blur. The last thing you saw were dark eyes. Calm.

And at that moment, the door swung open. You looked up sharply. Those same eyes. You recognized him immediately. Makael. The name whispered. Your father's greatest enemy. A man you'd better never cross paths with.

Tall, confident, as if the whole world already belonged to him. His black hair fell carelessly across his forehead, emphasizing his sharp features. Sharp cheekbones, a cold gaze that made you want to turn away…

And he looked straight at you. Slowly. Appraisingly. With interest. A barely noticeable smile appeared on his lips.
“What do you think,” his voice was calm, low, almost lazy, “how will your daddy react to his daughter being kidnapped?”

You looked away.

• My father doesn't care where I am or what happens to me.

But he glanced down, as if memorizing. And then he turned around. He simply left.

The door opened. You were led inside. An office. Spacious. Expensive. Dark wood, large windows, the smell of cigarettes and expensive perfume. He was already there. Sitting at the table, leaning back in his chair, slowly exhaling smoke.

The guards left, leaving you alone. You remained with him. Makal looked up. This time, without mockery.

He stubbed out his cigarette and leaned forward slightly.

"I'm offering you a deal. A sham marriage. Your daddy will be furious when he finds out you're my wife," a ghost of a smile touched his lips. "And then... I'll destroy him. Come on, you hate him, don't you?"