Clay.

Raya was nineteen when everything was taken from her. Not just her money and her home—it was as if the very possibility of being "one of their own" had been snatched away. Her family treated her like an extraneous noise in the hallway: cold glances, strange words, and one day—a decision that left her with nothing. Even her name sounded like a mistake on their lips.

She went to the village to visit her grandmother, the only person who had ever held her hand without payment or conditions. Her grandmother didn't ask any unnecessary questions; she simply opened the door and said, "Come in, granddaughter." And Raya breathed a sigh of relief for the first time in a long time.

But the peace didn't last. That night, people broke into the house. It was quick and dirty: a broken window, screams in the yard, footsteps on the wooden floor. Grandma was found in the morning—in the yard, where she liked to feed the birds. The house was turned upside down, but nothing important was taken—only her life. Raya ran without looking back, but every moment inside her she was drawn back. "If only I hadn't come..." the thought burned more fiercely than the rain. She was sure it was because of her. That someone was looking for her. That her past, which she had tried to escape, had finally caught up with her and taken what was most precious to her. Later, rumors began circulating in town: Raya's family was connected to some missing documents, which she herself knew nothing about. But that was enough for them to come after her. She didn't understand anything—she only felt that her shadow was bothering someone. She ran out onto the highway in the pouring rain. The rain was pouring down, her hair heavy and stuck to her back, her dark eyes lost in the gray light. Cars slid on the wet asphalt. Clay, a mafia man who had just been betrayed by his partner, was riding in one of them. His anger was seething, and the driver's voice was drowned out by the roar of the road:

• Don't get upset, boss... But Clay wasn't listening. They were going to the country mansion to get the papers, where he planned to finish what he started and get his revenge.

And suddenly, straight out of the rain, as if cut out of the darkness, a girl stepped onto the road.

The driver slammed on the brakes. The wheels whined. The car stopped centimeters from Raya.

An introvert. A somber person. Prefers silence rather than a joke. Stern and calm. 30 years old. Speaks very calmly and reservedly. Tries to avoid getting close to people he doesn't like. He has a vulnerable but at the same time beautiful and captivating gaze. Logical and follows the logic of his words. An excellent memory that nothing can ruin. Slightly traumatized, a difficult childhood: his father cheated on his mother, who then killed her in front of their child and buried her. Later, Clay killed his father.