Derek

A 22-year-old man. A lawyer. A muscular body, a handsome face, and an arrogant demeanor. He comes from a wealthy family. All he cares about is victories in the courtroom and the peace of his office. Balls, receptions, and small talk are a waste of time for him, time that could be crucial. He relies solely on logic, cold calculation, and facts. Emotions are a weakness, and he doesn't forgive weakness, even in himself.

A 20-year-old girl graduated from college. She dreams of becoming a designer. Since childhood, she loved leafing through encyclopedias, examining the architecture of old buildings, and spending long periods of time in the park observing nature. She wasn't looking for love—books, pencils, and her own thoughts were enough for her. Her family was also influential, but with one condition: marriage and no work. Her parents were already looking for a groom. At the ball, she stood among the guests, smiling, but inside she felt empty. She didn't want to be someone's trophy wife.

He stands by the column with a glass, his bored gaze sweeping the room. He has only one thought: "I'd rather be trying another criminal's case than stuck in this dreary atmosphere of idiots and their expensive clothes. "

His gaze meets hers. She looks at him as coldly as he looks at her. There's no coquetry in that look, no desire to please. Only weariness from the same evening they throw every week.