FLASHBACK
2005 (Valemont City)
In the sprawling city of Valemont, wealth was the dividing line between power and obscurity. The wealthy controlled the upper districts—lavish neighborhoods like Silverhill and Golden Gate, where estates were adorned with fountains and gardens so grand they seemed stolen from the pages of a fairy tale. The mansions gleamed under the sunlight, their gold-plated roofs and crystal windows shining like beacons of affluence.
But across the river, in a place called Raven Hollow, it was a very different story. Here, the roads were cracked and narrow, barely allowing for carts or even foot traffic. The homes were nothing more than shacks, made from old wood and thatched roofs that leaked in the rain. The wind howled through the thin walls, offering no mercy to the poor souls within. This was a place where hope had been eroded by time, and where dreams died as quickly as they were born.
It was in Raven Hollow that the poorest of the poor lived, with their hollow eyes and tired faces. These people didn't speak of ambition or dreams anymore; they spoke of survival. And in the midst of it all was Richard Wayne, a young man with a face too handsome for the misery he was born into, his black eyes the only spark of life in his worn, ragged appearance.
Richard's family was no different from the others. His father, Mr. Wayne, was a farmer who barely made enough to feed them, while his mother mended clothes for the neighbors, her hands rough from years of work. They were good people, but in Valemont, goodness did not pay the bills.
Richard, despite his good looks and charm, was ridiculed mercilessly for his poverty. The girls in Raven Hollow wanted nothing to do with him. They, too, longed for an escape from the misery of their lives, and Richard represented everything they were trying to leave behind.
One evening, after another exhausting day of seeing the wide gulf between himself and the upper-class citizens of Silverhill, Richard could no longer hold back his frustration. He sat across from his father in their small, dimly lit shack, the flickering candlelight casting shadows across the dirt floor.
"Why do we have to live like this?" Richard spat, unable to mask the anger in his voice. "Why do we live in this wretched place, when just across the river, they live in mansions like kings?"
Mr. Wayne looked up from his meal, his tired eyes meeting his son's. "Richard, we do what we can. This is our lot—"
"Our lot?!" Richard interrupted, slamming his hand on the table, causing the wooden plates to rattle. "Why can't we be like the Alexandrias? Do you know what they say about them? They say they swim in gold! They say they live in palaces!"
"Life isn't about gold, son," Mr. Wayne said quietly, his voice steady but sad. "We live, we work, we do what we can—"
"I don't care!" Richard roared. "This isn't fair! We should be there, not here!"
His father sighed, knowing his son's resentment ran deep, and that no amount of calm words would change it.
Richard stormed out of the shack, his heart pounding in his chest. He cursed under his breath, feeling a fiery determination rising inside him. He was done living in Raven Hollow. He would climb out of this pit, no matter what it took.
It wasn't long after that fateful conversation with his father that Richard's life took a sudden turn. One day, as he was walking along the market road, his mind preoccupied with schemes to elevate himself from the mire of Raven Hollow, he saw her.
She was standing near the stalls, a vision of beauty amidst the chaos of the market. Her name was Elena, and she was from Roselake, a middle-class district far from the squalor of Raven Hollow but still not as lavish as Silverhill. Yet, her appearance rivaled any of the upper-class women Richard had seen from afar.
Elena had long, auburn hair that cascaded down her back, shimmering like molten copper under the sunlight. With her beautiful Hazel eyes , cold and calculating, with lips painted a shade of red that made her look both regal and untouchable. She wore a dress of deep emerald green, trimmed with gold, and carried herself with the confidence of someone who had never known what it meant to struggle.
Richard's heart raced as he approached her. This was his chance—a chance to mingle with someone above his station, someone who might help him escape the prison of his birth.
"Excuse me," he said, trying to sound as polished as he could. "I couldn't help but notice you from across the market. You must be from Roselake?"
Elena glanced at him, her gaze cool and dismissive. "And you must be from… somewhere far beneath it."
The words stung more than Richard cared to admit, but he pressed on. "My name is Richard. Richard Wayne."
Elena looked him up and down, her face curling into a sneer. "You're from Raven Hollow, aren't you?" She let out a laugh, cold and biting. "I can tell by the way you're dressed. You must be joking if you think I would waste my time speaking to the likes of you."
Richard's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and his fists clenched at his sides. "I only wanted to introduce myself," he said through gritted teeth.
"You've done that," she replied curtly, then turned to her servant. "Let's go. I can't bear to be near this… filth."
With a flick of her wrist, her servant stepped forward and shoved Richard out of the way, sending him stumbling backward into the dirt. Laughter erupted from the onlookers, and Richard's humiliation was complete.
As he picked himself up, his face burning with shame, he watched Elena's beautiful SUV disappear down the road. In that moment, a dark determination took hold of him. He vowed then and there that he would make her regret ever looking down on him. One day, he would have her—and she would eat her words.
The very next day, Richard's mind was racing. His thoughts fixated on Elena, but even more so on his desire to rise above the muck of Raven Hollow. It wasn't just about Elena anymore; it was about proving that he was more than the poverty he was born into.
It was then that a chance opportunity came his way. While walking through the city, Richard overheard a group of businessmen talking about a lucrative investment—a risky one, but one that could yield enormous profits if handled correctly. One of the businessmen was Mr. Roswell, the father of Elena.
His plan began to form. Richard gathered every coin he had saved, and what little his father had managed to scrape together over the years, and he approached Mr. Roswell with a proposition. He would invest everything into the deal, no matter the risk. Mr. Roswell, desperate for investors, agreed.
The deal went south. The investment, instead of yielding profit, sank into oblivion. Elena's family lost everything. Their mansion in Roselake was sold, their wealth scattered to the winds. The fall from grace was swift and brutal.
In the ashes of their fortune, Richard appeared once again—this time with an offer that no one else would make. "I'll save your family," he said, standing before Mr. Roswell and Elena. "But I want something in return. I want Elena's hand in marriage."
The Roswell family, desperate and out of options, had no choice but to agree. And so, Richard married Elena—not for love, but for vengeance.