A Forbidden Love Between Worlds

That grand palace stood majestically in the rural part of Sapphire, its boundaries surrounded by a vast forest and the camp of non-royal warriors. These were the fighters who didn't belong to royalty and therefore held a lower rank.

The seemingly vulnerable girl was hidden behind a large tree, positioned between the camp's entrance and the vast garden surrounding the palace walls. From there, she could admire him, as he was leaning against one of the many balconies of the monumental building, accompanied by three warriors laughing and chatting.

The prince always caught her attention, despite being utterly unattainable to her. She admired how his straight black hair flowed down his back like a cascade of dark waters. That gorgeous hair was an inheritance from his mother. However, his honey-colored eyes, contrasting with thick eyebrows, were inherited from his father, King Mikel Patrick.

As for the queen, she hailed from the Jeng region, where most inhabitants shared the same physical traits: small eyes, straight dark hair, and medium height.

Unlike her, her husband had been born in Sapphire, inheriting the throne as the only son of the late King Daniel Patrick. King Mikel was considered the tallest in Sapphire, muscular, and the owner of a messy chestnut mane.

"Spying on the prince again?" a familiar voice spoke behind her, making the girl flinch.

"Ulises, you scared me!" she complained.

He squinted, not believing he had caught her off guard. Sometimes it annoyed him how she pretended to be an ordinary girl around him when he was the only one who knew all her secrets.

For a few seconds, Leela looked at the boy fondly. Ulises was the opposite of the warriors she usually dealt with. His body was toned but slightly slim, slender, and of average height. Her friend was a few years younger than her, yet more prudent and mature.

Leela loved how beautiful his hair was, with its reddish curls framing his neck and part of his face. That young man was handsome, with unique bright green eyes that gave him an angelic appearance. As the apprentice of his uncle, a distinguished pharmacist, and doctor at the palace, he often spent his time among plants gathering ingredients to prepare medicine.

"You should stop doing that," the boy warned her. "They might accuse you of being a spy."

"But I am a spy!" she laughed. Ulises rolled his eyes.

"That's not official. Besides, you should be spying on enemies, not your prince."

"How nice that sounds! My prince!" she exclaimed flirtatiously, spinning as if she were dancing.

"Wake up, wild girl," he teased, snapping his fingers. "You seem to have a double personality. If anyone discovered you were swooning over the prince, you'd be the laughingstock of everyone.

"No one has to find out unless a cute little boy decides to open his big mouth." She ruffled his hair, but he pushed her hand away, huffing.

"Whatever you say..." he muttered under his breath. "By the way, I need a favor, tough girl." He scratched his nose. "Could you take these papers to my uncle at the palace? I have something important to do..." His gaze drifted toward the palace gardens, where a curvy, bronze-skinned woman was working.

"Ah, I see, you rascal." She smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Are you planning to stalk the gorgeous lady?"

"I'm not like you. I just want to talk to her about something that's none of your business." His face turned so red that Leela pressed her lips together to keep from laughing.

"Hmm, sure..." she teased with a sly chuckle. "And why should I help you?"

"You owe me, remember?" he reminded her. "I'm always covering for you."

"Fine..." She rolled her eyes. "But be careful, angel boy. She's a worldly woman and older than you. Think you can handle the challenge?"

"Just go already!" he ordered, shoving an unattractive basket into her hands.

"Goodbye, Casanova." She winked. "Don't choke on your words!" She ran off laughing.

Leela left her hiding spot and crossed the garden, stopping at the foot of a long staircase leading to the palace doors.

She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Being there always made her anxious, knowing the prince was nearby. Although she doubted the guards would let her inside, just the thought of running into him sent her heart racing.

Before she could present the guards with Ulises's note and the basket, a hand grabbed her elbow.

"Hello, gorgeous," a deep, raspy voice greeted her.

Uncomfortable with the intrusion, Leela glanced sideways and recognized one of the prince's royal warriors. It was no secret that this man didn't get along with his leader.

She'd never been this close to him before. His intimidating, rebellious aura was undeniable. She allowed herself a brief moment to admire his striking features-golden hair, a muscular frame, and a bold, arrogant gaze that was now shamelessly scanning her from head to toe.

"What do you want?" she asked, frowning.

"How insolent," he mocked. "Don't you know how to address your superiors?"

"Do you know how to treat those below your rank?" she shot back defiantly.

"Well, well... You're misbehaving, doll. Guess I'll have to punish you..." He leaned in closer, his voice dripping with seduction. "And trust me, you'll enjoy it."

"Who do you think you are, idiot!" she yelled, unconcerned about the consequences.

She couldn't tolerate comments like that. As a skilled warrior serving the Sapphire Kingdom, she deserved the same respect as any man.

"How dare you speak to me that way!" he barked. "Do you even know who I am?"

"Of course, I do!" she retorted, her voice unwavering. "You're a pathetic little bully who takes out his frustrations on those weaker than you."

"You insolent wretch!" he roared, swinging a punch. She dodged it with ease, freeing her arm from his grasp in the process.

"Want to play, doll? Let's play then!" he snarled, launching another attack. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't land a single hit.

Leela moved with incredible agility, her swift movements impossible to counter. Even as she held the basket, she leaped over walls and staircases, evading his every move with precision.

"Enough!" A commanding voice broke through the tension.

The prince, flanked by three other warriors, approached. The air grew heavy as they closed in.

"What's going on here, Lars?" the prince asked, his calm tone laced with authority.

"This girl disrespected me," Lars claimed, bowing slightly, though his gesture lacked sincerity. "She doesn't know how to address her superiors. I was merely teaching her a lesson."

"Were you teaching her, or was she teaching you?" one of the warriors quipped.

"Shut your mouth, idiot!" Lars's face burned with humiliation. "She's nothing. I could crush her with my bare hands."

"Yeah, that's pretty obvious," the warrior replied sarcastically. Lars lunged at him, but the prince stepped in, grabbing his arm to stop him.

"Control yourself," the prince ordered, his tone calm but firm. "You've caused enough trouble. You wouldn't want to provoke my father today-he's in a foul mood." His malicious grin sent a shiver down Lars's spine. Begrudgingly, the warrior stormed off, muttering curses under his breath.

"Alright, tough girl, care to explain what happened?" the prince turned to Leela.

"I just came to deliver this to Mr. Harrison," she said, showing him the basket of herbs and lowering her gaze. "He grabbed my arm and started harassing me."

The prince chuckled. "Looks like Lars picked the wrong girl to mess with," he remarked.

His friends burst into laughter. Lars was feared for his arrogance and strength, so seeing him humiliated by a seemingly delicate young woman was a spectacle.

"Who would've thought such a sweet-looking girl could take down the great Lars," one of the warriors said, flashing a flirtatious smile.

"Take down?" The prince raised an eyebrow. "She just dodged him-luckily for him. You have no idea what this sweet girl is capable of on the battlefield." His words silenced them all, their shock evident.

"Wait, are you saying she's stronger than Lars?" one of them asked.

"She's stronger than all of you combined," the prince replied nonchalantly.

Leela bowed quickly. "If you'll excuse me, Prince, warriors, I'll take my leave."

The men watched as she walked away, her small, graceful figure catching their attention. Despite her modest height and lack of exaggerated curves, there was something magnetic about her-an essence that stirred primal desires.

"She's stunning," Nico murmured. "I wouldn't mind training her... in a different kind of fight." The group laughed, earning a scowl from the prince.

"Don't be jealous, Jing," Esteban teased. "You can't deny she's attractive."

"Stop spouting nonsense," the prince snapped. "I've seen better," he muttered under his breath, unaware that his words cut deeper than any blade.

The Prince sat in the chair behind his study desk and observed his three loyal companions, who waited expectantly to hear what he had to say about the girl.

"Nico, Bruno, and Esteban, the woman Lars just confronted is Búho," he said casually, causing them all to burst out laughing.

"That's a good one, Jing!" said Esteban, the mixed-race boy with dark brown hair, patting him on the shoulder.

"So, you don't believe me..." Jing said with an intrigued look. "I only ask that you don't mention what you just heard to anyone. I'm telling you because you would've found out sooner or later, being the palace's main warriors. That's why we haven't allowed Búho to reveal her identity-because she's a spy. If you don't believe me, it means she has a good cover. Her appearance, I mean."

They all fell silent, realizing he was serious. After a few minutes of tension, the dark-skinned boy broke the silence:

"So, that girl is a spy."

Bruno's eyes sparkled with fascination, as he had admired Búho ever since he learned of her existence, impressed by her great skill in battle.

"Who would've thought Búho was such an attractive woman!" Esteban exclaimed with a lustful grin.

"She's not officially a spy yet, as she's still in the trial process. I'm personally training her," Jing clarified with pride. "As I mentioned before, her identity must remain a secret. That's why she fully covers herself during battles and is given only a few missions."

The room fell silent again as they struggled to process the shocking revelation.

That morning, Leela rose early to attend her private training with Prince Jing. It was an exclusive and secret practice, shared only between them, so only Master Lee was supposed to know-or rather, he was the only one who should have known. However, Ulysses also knew about these meetings and had promised his friend that he would keep the information hidden.

Jing trained her once a week in a concealed dojo nestled high in the mountains. For her, this training was an immense challenge-not just because of the intensity of the sessions, but because she would spend two hours alone with her unattainable love, enduring all the unavoidable touches their practice required.

As usual, Leela wore black lycra pants and a loose white blouse that hung just below her hips. Her hair was tied up in a bun, with a few stray locks falling freely around her face. She also wore simple, comfortable fabric shoes, perfect for the occasion.

She entered the dojo hesitantly and found the prince kneeling in the center of the room. A quiet, disguised sigh escaped her lips when her gaze fell on his bare chest. The absence of his top gave her an unguarded view of his impressive physique, his sculpted chest a sight that made her heart race.

She was used to seeing men's bare torsos as a warrior, but gazing at the prince unsettled her deeply.

She chose to focus her attention on the cozy cabin instead, trying to avoid being caught while her eyes devoured him.

The dojo was built of fine, sturdy wood, perched atop a mountain so high that the clouds seemed within reach. Peace and beauty defined the place, despite its unusual decor and lack of furniture. The only adornments were the white curtains draped over the wide, open windows, swaying gently with the breeze.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes. Without warning, Jing hurled a dagger toward her and leaped off the wooden floor. With a swift 360-degree spin mid-air, he landed gracefully on his feet.

Thanks to her sharp reflexes, Leela caught the weapon with one hand, her body still and poised. In response, he smiled in satisfaction, clearly enjoying the display of her skill.

"Today's lesson will be a little different from our usual routine," he announced, his tone steady and composed. "Though you've already proven your cunning with traps like this, a little extra practice won't hurt, tough girl. Today's class will focus on... flirting."

He spoke with such ease that it unraveled her completely. How could he say such words with such calm, when they sent her entire being into turmoil?

"F-Flirting?" she stammered.

"Of course. Why are you looking at me like that? You're a spy, remember? Your beautiful face should serve a purpose," he said with a mischievous smile, stepping closer to her. Tilting her chin up, he added, "Because, tough girl, you're the most beautiful warrior in all of Sapphire." His honey-colored eyes bore into hers with a penetrating gaze that sent shivers through her.

"Well, that's an exaggeration," she retorted, an unusual gleam in her gray eyes. "You've seen better," she added, her tone laced with malice.

He released her chin, visibly flustered. It was clear she had overheard him talking to the guys that one time-about her appearance.

"Leela, I..."

"Prince, don't break character, or I might end up teaching you how to wield the weapons of flirtation," she interrupted deliberately, steering the conversation away from how humiliating it had been to hear him say he'd seen more beautiful women. She already knew it was true, especially since the prince was infamous for his active love life with women handpicked just for him.

"You're right," he said, grinning. "You shut down my move with just one line. I think you know a lot about this subject."

"Prince, every woman is an expert in the art of seduction. Therefore, we can skip this lesson and focus on the fight."

"You love fighting!"

"No, I enjoy learning," she corrected, stepping closer to him with subtle grace. Then, she let the tip of her index finger trail along his cheek.

At such proximity, she could admire his chiseled face in detail, preserving the image perfectly for her private fantasies.

Suddenly, she drew the dagger he'd given her and launched an attack. Jing countered instantly, twisting her wrist to halt the strike, but she spun out of his grip, freeing herself in one fluid motion.

As soon as she gained enough distance to move freely, Leela struck with a series of kicks aimed at the prince, who dodged her blows with practiced ease.

In mere seconds, the two were spinning across the floor, their movements flowing like a dangerous yet sensual dance. Each step, each strike was laced with flirtation, their subtle exchanges elevating the tension between them.

But soon, the playful edge faded, giving way to a real battle. Punches and kicks flew between them as they dodged, countered, and attempted to overpower one another. Their movements were graceful yet fierce, and the fight quickly shifted off the ground. With their ability to defy gravity, they floated through the air, delivering martial techniques with effortless precision.

In a flash, Jing caught her right wrist, twisting it behind her back to subdue her. Yet, she twirled in midair, evading his hold with ease. Leela's mastery of gravity allowed her to move as though the air were her natural domain, like a bird born to soar.

With startling speed, she placed her hands on his shoulders for leverage, lifting her legs upward and wrapping them firmly around his waist in one seamless motion. Securing her position, she encircled his neck with her arms, bringing their faces so close their breaths became one. Their gazes locked, an unspoken connection igniting between them.

Caught in the heat of the moment, she closed the gap between their noses, her eyes teasingly inviting seduction.

"Prince, have you ever kissed anyone?" she asked with a sly smile, her tone dripping with mischief.

"What man my age hasn't kissed someone, darling?" he replied, equally playful.

"What might your lips taste like?" she murmured, tracing the curve of his mouth with her fingertip.

"Why don't you find out for yourself?" he replied with a provocative grin.

"I'm sorry, but I'll pass for now," she declined.

In an instant, she released Jing and vaulted over his head. Before he could turn to face her, Leela dropped behind him, wrapping her legs around his waist once more. This time, however, she had him trapped from behind. With one arm, she secured his neck, while her free hand held the dagger, its sharp tip brushing against the sensitive skin beneath his chin.

"Do you have me in your grasp?" Jing asked with a hint of irony, a half-smile forming on his lips.

Suddenly, his arms broke free of her hold with astonishing speed and skill. In one swift motion, he struck her stomach, leaving her breathless for a few seconds.

Without wasting a moment, his powerful fist shot toward her face, but she intercepted it with both arms. Spinning gracefully, Leela lifted her legs into the air, aiming a kick at Jing's face while still holding his arm. Yet, he deliberately threw himself backward, slamming them both to the ground, leaving her pinned atop him.

Before she could react, Jing grabbed both her wrists and pulled her closer to his face in one fluid movement.

"Still don't want to try them?" he teased again, his voice low and inviting.

She smirked mischievously. "I'd like to keep my beautiful lips intact, so I'll pass."

Jing spat out a tiny blade he had hidden in his mouth, the sharp edge embedding itself into the wooden wall.

"Is your offer still on the table?" she asked with a playful smile, but he shook his head.

"You missed your chance, darling." With that, Jing grabbed her by the waist and hurled her against the wall with no hesitation or mercy. He then leapt to his feet with a fluid motion. "You still have much to learn before I name you an official spy," he declared, his tone cold and serious.

Leela nodded silently, her disappointment unmistakable. She found it incredible how quickly he shifted his demeanor-from flirtatious, smiling, and playful to cold and indifferent, as though their earlier connection had never existed. Or perhaps she had taken his performance too seriously.

Biting her lower lip, she felt foolish.

Why did she allow herself to create fantasies in her mind, only to end up feeling so empty? That was how their practices always unfolded: brimming with tension, sensuality, and flirtation, only for him to end them the same way-distant, cold, and indifferent.

***

"Leela... Leela... Leeeeeela!"

"What?!" she growled as Ulises snapped her out of her daydream.

"You're more distracted than usual today," her friend said, snapping his fingers in front of her face. "Wake up, tough girl."

"Ulises..." she murmured thoughtfully, letting out a sigh of sorrow. "How do you stop loving someone?"

"By 'stop loving,' do you mean letting go of your obsession with the prince?"

"It's not an obsession," she shot him a glare. "I genuinely like him."

"You need to forget about that," he warned. "He's a prince, and you..." He scratched his nose. "You're... you."

"Why should I have to forget about him just because he's a prince? I don't understand why social divisions are so important that they become discrimination. I can't even stand the distinction between 'royal warriors' and 'non-royal warriors.' All of us give our lives on the battlefield for this kingdom.

"As for social differences, does it really make sense to assign someone's worth based on their economic status or lineage? We're all living beings who feel and suffer, who go to the bathroom and... deposit waste, and we all have the same body parts. So why does a relationship between the prince and me have to be impossible?"

Her friend scoffed at the way she concluded her speech.

"You're really analytical today. But the matter with the prince is different," he replied. "It's not just about being of royal blood."

"Oh, really?"

"You're the prince's special spy, and you don't know something so basic?"

"Stop lecturing me, Angelito."

"And you stop calling me that."

"You call me 'tough girl.'"

"Everyone calls you that, and you like it. But I'm a man, and I don't appreciate being called diminutives," he grumbled, annoyed, as she laughed.

"Sorry, Angelito."

Ulises crossed his arms in defeat. "Getting back to the point," he continued, "do you remember the crown prince's wedding?" She nodded. "Well, he married a woman from another kingdom because she was his chosen one-his complement."

Leela's eyes widened. "Why didn't I know about this?"

"Because you're always lost in your 'prince sighing' world."

"So, you're saying that princes can only marry their chosen one?" He nodded. "And how do they know who it is?"

"Have you noticed the choker that Prince Jing always wears? It's made of two jewels joined together to appear as one. When the prince meets the woman who becomes his complement and genuine love, the choker will split in two.

"At that moment, he will place one part of the jewel on her, and if the two glow together, it will mean she's the chosen one. From then on, whenever they're near each other, the chokers will emit a faint glow that's barely noticeable. However, if they're apart for too long or reunite after a separation, the chokers will release an intense light as a reminder of their bond. That's about all that's been revealed regarding the sacred jewel, and only those close to the royal family know its mystery."

"Wow... I'd love to wear that choker," she sighed.

"You're not of royal blood," Ulises countered with a mischievous smile. "Only someone with royal blood can be the prince's complement."

Leela looked down at the ground, her spirits crushed.

"And here we are again with the social divisions!"

"It's better for you to forget about the prince. Besides, you're a warrior-you wouldn't make an ideal wife for any man."

Leela nodded, sadness clouding her gray eyes. She wished she had been born under different circumstances-or that the world could simply be different.

***

The alarm woke her up, as it did every day, and she sat up suddenly in bed. Once again, her body was covered in cold sweat, and the emptiness that depressed her settled back into her chest. Two tears ran down her face, caused by the helplessness those dreams provoked. She hated feeling that sadness upon waking as if something or someone was missing.

She got out of bed slowly, unwillingly, but she had to prepare to go to work. As the head of editing at a journalism agency, she had to arrive on time to deal with the people under her charge and all the work they sent her for approval. Lately, the work had piled up, thanks to the emotional lows she was going through again.

After getting dressed, she barely touched her breakfast and fed the cat she found hungry on the street, one she hadn't found a home for yet.

"Goodbye, Angelito!" She didn't know why she called him that, but it suited him. She grabbed her keys and headed to work.

At noon, she decided to take a break and have lunch outside the office.

"Finally, you left your hideout!" Her co-worker and friend surprised her. "I've had to eat alone all week because you've been disappearing."

"I've had so much work piled up. Also, I've been feeling out of place lately; maybe it's the stress?" She replied absentmindedly.

Her friend looked at her suspiciously but didn't respond.

Soon, they arrived at a restaurant near the agency, the one they usually went to for lunch.

"Still dreaming of the never-never?" She suddenly picked up the previous topic after the waiter took their menus.

"It's such a real dream that I cry when I wake up. Do you think I should make an appointment with a therapist?" She answered casually, as they had talked about this issue many times before.

"What you need is a man to relieve all that stress from lack of sex."

"You and your ideas..." She shook her head with an amused smile, and her cheeks blushed.

"Think about it, Nora; you dream of a prince who is really handsome and with whom you go into battle." She chuckled mischievously. "You need a man to fight the most pleasurable battle you've ever had in your saintly and shy life." They both laughed.

"My mind isn't on a man right now. I... I need some answers, I can't explain it." She regretted letting those words slip, knowing her friend wouldn't understand. "Have you ever felt like you belong in another place and had another life?"

"Of course! The blonde nodded. "I should be a millionaire, living in Hollywood, and married to Brad Pitt." They both burst into laughter.

He woke up early, as usual, and glanced at himself in the mirror, satisfied with his attire. This time, unlike every other morning, he dressed casually. He wore fitted black pants, a white T-shirt, and a jacket the same color as his trousers. For footwear, he chose simple black sneakers.

He had combed his hair as usual, though a stray lock or two always found their way across his face. His true desire was to let his hair grow out, but he had no choice but to keep it trimmed to neck length because of his job-and because his mother kept a close eye on his appearance.

Once ready to leave, he slung his belt pouch over his body. Inside, he carried everything he needed for his outing: charcoal pencils, an eraser, a blade, and his sketchbook-just in case inspiration struck him suddenly, as it often did on days like these.

He didn't take his car. Instead, he decided to travel to that city by train and planned to use the bus to get around once he arrived. The visit filled him with a sense of freedom and satisfaction-finally, he would live on his own, free from his mother's constant interference.

After a few hours, he reached the city and spent his time exploring it by bus and on foot, eager to familiarize himself with the place he would soon call home.

By midday, he was walking downtown, searching for a good restaurant to have lunch. He hurried toward a group of people preparing to cross the street, but the traffic light turned green, forcing him to wait for it to change again. In the meantime, he amused himself by watching the cars go by.

His thoughts wandered, and he didn't notice the light changing. He snapped back to reality only when he saw another group of pedestrians already crossing the street.

Instead of rushing to join them, he froze in place. His eyes locked on a woman on the other side of the street, dressed in a thick gray skirt and a crisp white blouse. Her chocolate-brown, wavy hair fell just above her waist, and her figure struck him as remarkably attractive.

She seemed to be in a hurry, her steps brisk against the pavement. He felt an inexplicable urge to follow her, but his body refused to cooperate. Under normal circumstances, such a desire would have struck him as odd, even unsettling, but this wasn't an ordinary situation-unless, of course, his mind was playing tricks on him.

Was he seeing a vision? Could what he was witnessing truly be real?

He snapped out of his trance when he noticed the woman turning a corner, about to vanish from his sight. It was then that he decided to cross the street, intending to follow her. However, the traffic light changed again, leaving him with no choice but to watch her disappear and be consumed by his lingering curiosity.

***

"Earth to Edward!" A slender young man with chestnut hair approached him, dressed in an executive suit identical to his own. "What happened on your trip yesterday that's got you so lost in thought?"

Edward looked at him, dazed, as though he were losing his mind.

"What would you do if you saw, in real life, the face of a woman you painted in a portrait-a face you thought came from your imagination?" he asked, his voice trembling.

His friend stared at him in confusion, as if he couldn't make sense of a single word.

"What are you talking about?"

"Do you remember the painting of the gorgeous brunette?"

"Ah, yes! Your favorite piece," his friend replied. "It's an incredible painting. That woman looks so real like she could step right out of the canvas," he added, still marveling at the memory of it.

"I saw her yesterday," Edward said, his voice trembling as fear flickered across his face.

"What are you talking about?" His friend frowned skeptically. "Don't mess with me. You told me you didn't use a model or even a reference image for that painting."

"That's true," Edward confirmed with a nod. "She came completely from my imagination."

"That's impossible... Maybe you just thought you saw her."

"I know what I saw," Edward stated firmly.

"Did you talk to her?"

"No, she was too far away. I was going to follow her, but then she disappeared."

"Well, it's not really that strange. We see faces and images all the time. Even when we don't focus on them, they stay locked away in our subconscious. Maybe you painted a memory you didn't even know you had. Or it could just be a coincidence. If you saw her up close, you might realize she doesn't look as much like your painting as you think."

"You're probably right." Edward let out a small laugh, feeling foolish for letting his imagination run wild.

"Speaking of which, Edward-your mother is waiting for you in her office."

"Oh, right!" He straightened up quickly. "Today's the meeting where they announce my transfer."

"Wow! What's it like to become the new CEO of the largest branch of your parents' media empire?"

"I feel a heavy weight of responsibility on my shoulders, but at the same time, a sense of freedom," Edward admitted. Both of them laughed, knowing exactly what he meant.

Hours later, Edward stepped into the spacious boardroom and noticed that everyone was already in their seats. As usual, his mother sat at the head of the table, right beside his father-the undeniable rulers of the room. Their presence radiated an intensity that demanded respect, ensuring order and discipline among the employees.

His mother, a strikingly beautiful, petite Asian woman, was a stark contrast to his father, a towering man with fair skin and honey-colored eyes. Edward had inherited his eye color and his solid build from his father, but everything else-his sharp features, his expressions-came from his mother.

It was always amusing to see his parents together: his father, commanding attention with his sheer physical presence, and his mother, equally commanding but through the force of her will. There was no question-she was the one in charge.

His older brother, on the other hand, had inherited their father's stature and features, save for his small, dark eyes, a clear gift from their mother. As the eldest, he was next in line to become the CEO of their family's primary company.

Edward, meanwhile, was set to take the reins of a branch in another city, as the current CEO of that location was retiring.

The details of his transfer were finalized, but there was one unexpected change-they had moved up his departure to just two weeks away.

For some reason, this impending trip filled him with a deep, inexplicable happiness. It felt as though something was waiting for him there, something that would finally bring him the answers he had been searching for. Perhaps, in that new city, he would be able to shake off the emptiness and sense of loss that had been haunting him in this place.