Ryu stood at the edge of the grand ballroom, the weight of his family's empire pressing on his shoulders like an invisible chain. Around him, the room glittered with wealth—lavish chandeliers bathed the guests in golden light, their laughter echoing through the air. Every high-society figure in the room was a power player in the business world, mingling beneath silk drapes and champagne flutes, but Ryu felt miles away.
The tuxedo he wore fit perfectly, a custom piece tailored to the heir of the Han conglomerate. His father's empire. His empire, one day.
But none of it felt like his.
He sipped his drink, gaze drifting over the sea of faces, all smiling, all scheming. Everyone in this room knew the game: alliances, power, control. But there was something different about Ryu. They called him the golden child, born with the world at his feet. But he knew the truth. Everything about his life had been decided for him—what to wear, who to trust, even who to marry.
And tonight, it was no different.
His father's voice had echoed in his head the moment the limo pulled up to this glittering event.
"Ryu, tonight is important. You're meeting her—Elara. Play your part well."
Ryu's grip tightened on the crystal glass in his hand. Elara. Another pawn in the game. His bride-to-be, chosen for him without so much as a conversation. He hadn't even seen her face yet. She was the daughter of a lesser-known family with just enough status to make her a strategic asset, but not enough to threaten the Han legacy. Perfectly crafted for him, just like everything else in his life.
Suddenly, the soft murmurs of the crowd hushed as a woman entered the room. Ryu's eyes snapped toward the door.
There she was.
Elara.
Her presence immediately shifted the atmosphere. She wore a sleek, black gown that clung to her in all the right places, an elegant contrast to her pale skin. Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders in waves, framing her sharp, intelligent eyes that swept across the room as though she owned it. For a moment, their gazes met.
Something flickered in Ryu's chest.
But he quickly suppressed it. Whatever emotions stirred at the sight of her, they were irrelevant. She wasn't here as a person. She was here as part of the deal.
She walked toward him with an air of confidence, every step deliberate. She was close now, and as she neared, Ryu noticed something more. Beneath the polished exterior, there was something... unsettling about her. A slight twitch in her fingers. The way her eyes didn't quite meet his for more than a few seconds at a time.
Was she nervous? Or something else?
"Elara, I presume," Ryu said coolly, extending his hand, just as he had been taught. Cold, calculated. Never show weakness.
She took his hand, her grip firm, though her eyes darted, almost too quickly, toward the ground before meeting his again.
"Ryu Han," she replied with a faint smile, her voice soft, but there was a steel edge to it. "It's... an honor."
He studied her for a moment. She was more beautiful than he had imagined. But that didn't matter. Her beauty wasn't what disturbed him—it was the feeling that she wasn't here by choice either. Just like him, she had been placed in this position, manipulated into playing her role.
But what was her endgame?
Before Ryu could ask anything further, his father appeared by his side, his presence like a looming shadow over the both of them.
"Ah, Elara! Welcome to the Han family," his father greeted her, his smile wide but full of hidden menace. "I trust Ryu is treating you well."
Elara nodded, her polite smile never wavering, but Ryu caught the slight tremor in her hand as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Something wasn't right.
His father, ever the businessman, continued to drone on about the merger, about what this marriage would mean for their families. About power. Control. Empire.
But Ryu barely heard any of it. His focus had shifted entirely to Elara. He couldn't shake the feeling that she was trapped—just like him.
As the evening wore on, Ryu and Elara were left alone again, his father now busy entertaining the other guests. The air between them was thick with unsaid words, the pressure of the evening weighing on both their shoulders.
Elara finally broke the silence, her voice quieter this time, almost fragile. "I didn't ask for this," she whispered, so low only Ryu could hear.
He glanced at her, surprised by her honesty. It wasn't what he had expected. Everyone else in his life always played their part perfectly, never revealing cracks in the mask.
"Neither did I," Ryu admitted, his voice equally low. For a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them, surrounded by the glittering party but somehow separate from it all.
Elara's eyes softened, and for the first time, Ryu saw her—not as a piece in the puzzle his father had crafted, but as someone else trapped in a life they didn't choose. He wondered just how far her chains reached. And for the first time in years, he felt a flicker of something unfamiliar: sympathy.
But as quickly as it came, the moment was gone. Elara straightened, her gaze hardening once again. The mask slid back into place, and the confident, composed woman returned.
Ryu watched her closely, wondering what secrets she was hiding, and more importantly, who was pulling her strings.
Because if there was one thing Ryu knew about the world he was born into—it was that no one was ever truly free.
Not him.
And certainly, not her.