The Heiress Bound By Ruthless King

The orphanage was abuzz with an unusual excitement, the kind that only came with celebration. Strangers in tailored suits moved through the space, their smiles polished, their laughter practiced, as cameras captured their generosity. Tables groaned under the weight of lavish dishes, while brightly wrapped gifts gleamed in the sunlight, like treasures waiting to be claimed.

She had watched it all with a wide smile, bouncing on her toes, her heart thrumming with delight. The gifts had been picked with great care-dolls with glassy eyes, books filled with grand adventures, toy soldiers and stuffed animals soft as clouds. She had chosen many of them herself, pointing at catalogs with a firm little finger, certain that each one would make a child happy.

It was a perfect day.

And it was within those very walls that she first saw Kael. An Édienne-one of the city's few respected families, much like her own.

He had looked like a prince from the pages of her childhood fairytales-tall and poised, his features striking, as if painted with deliberate, masterful strokes. At twelve, Kael carried himself with the kind of quiet confidence that Ríona had only ever seen in grown-ups, his school uniform crisp, his movements careful and precise. When he approached, it was with measured steps, as though the very air shifted to accommodate his presence, an unseen light trailing in his wake.

And Ríona had stared at him with open curiosity.

"Lady Dawnstar," a voice cut through the air, deep and polished like the grand piano in her family's salon. Kael's grandfather. He was tall and old, his suit pressed to perfection, his sharp gaze moving over the room like he was inspecting something. He greeted Ríona's mother with a polite nod, though his eyes never lost their weight.

"It is always a pleasure to see your family's generosity," he said, his voice smooth but distant. Then his gaze dropped to her. "And this must be little Ríona."

Ríona's cheeks warmed. Instinctively, she pressed herself against her mother's side, her small hands twisting in the silk of Jianna's gown. She did not often feel small. The world had, for as long as she could remember, arranged itself around her, bending to her laughter, her wants, her delight. But there was something about the way the old man looked at her that made her feel observed in a way she did not entirely understand.

Her mother chuckled softly, smoothing a hand over her daughter's hair. "This is Mr. Édienne, a close acquaintance of your grandfather," she said. "You must greet him properly, my dear."

Ríona hesitated only for a breath before dipping into a practiced bow, her head bent low.

"I hear you chose all these gifts yourself," the old man continued, his voice soften.

At this, her shyness fell away like a silk ribbon slipping undone. Ríona straightened, her earlier hesitation replaced with enthusiasm. "Yes!" she declared, nodding so fervently that her curls bounced. "They are all my favorites! The children love them!"

"How thoughtful," he murmured, though his voice carried no particular inflection, no indication of whether he truly meant the words. Then, turning back to Jianna, he added, "You must be proud of her."

Jianna Kim, ever the vision of effortless elegance, smiled in the way only she could-like light through fine crystal, something soft yet dazzling in its quiet brilliance. She was a woman who inspired whispered admiration, the kind of beauty that did not demand attention but commanded it all the same.

Ríona, still preening under the weight of the conversation, turned to Kael then, expectant. She had grown accustomed to being met with laughter, with praise, with indulgent amusement at her every word. The world, after all, had always been a mirror for her joy, reflecting it back in kind.

But Kael said nothing. He just stood there, perfectly still, his hands behind his back. He wasn't even looking at her-wasn't looking at anyone, really. His gaze was somewhere else, distant, uninterested, like none of this mattered to him.

Ríona's brows furrowed. People always paid attention to her. They always smiled, always said something nice, always-something.

But Kael was different.

She huffed quietly, lips pursing.

It was Ríona's first charity event when she first met Kael, on a spring morning at her birthday celebration.

"Do you hate me?"

She stood before Kael, arms crossed, chin tilted upward, her eyes-large and expectant-searching his for something, anything. The summer sun draped golden light over the two of them, catching in the loose strands of her auburn hair.

Kael did not sigh, nor did he frown. He merely regarded her in the same way one might acknowledge an autumn breeze-felt, but forgotten the moment it passed.

"I don't hate you," he said at last. It was rare for him to respond at all, but today, for whatever reason, he did. "I just don't like children."

Ríona blinked, as if the very idea baffled her. "Why not?"

"Because you're insufferable."

"That's not true!" she huffed, her small hands balling into fists. He turned his head slightly at her outburst, his expression betraying nothing but a flicker of irritation.

"Then who do you like?" she demanded.

Kael said nothing, offering only silence in response. He did not need to answer-he never did. But Ríona, persistent as ever, refused to accept defeat. She tugged at the sleeve of his pressed shirt, again and again, like a child winding a music box, certain that if she turned the key enough times, a melody would come.

At last, Kael relented, though his voice remained impassive. "Someone older."

Ríona froze.

A slow, dawning horror crept across her face. "Do you want to marry her?"

"Marry?" He scoffed, shaking his head. "That's stupid."

"It's not stupid!" she argued, her lower lip jutting forward in a pout. "When you like someone, you marry them. The prince always marries the princess-because they fall in love."

Kael stared at her then, his expression unreadable, before tilting his head slightly. "Where did you hear that?"

"My mother tells me stories," she said matter-of-factly.

"Your mother lies to you."

The words weren't cruel, nor were they particularly sharp. They were simply stated as fact. And yet, there was something in the way he said them that made Ríona's chest tighten.

Kael bent down slightly, just enough to meet her gaze, his dark eyes as cool and detached as ever. "There are no fairytales in this world, Ríona."

His voice was steady, void of indulgence, like he was stating an unshakable truth. The kind that couldn't be argued with. The kind that ended conversations.

But Ríona did not waver.

Slow and knowing, like she held the answer to a riddle he hadn't yet figured out.

"Yes, there are," she whispered, leaning in just slightly, as if she were letting him in on a precious secret.

"Someday, I'll be the princess, and you'll be the prince I marry."

She spoke not with the naïve fancy of a child, but with the quiet confidence of someone who had already decided the future.

A promise. A spell.

Perhaps, in that fleeting moment, a part of him wondered if she was right.

"I'm not a prince." Kael murmured after a pause, his voice softer, almost testing.

Ríona grinned, unbothered. "Then I'll make you one."

Kael did not laugh. He did not scoff or roll his eyes the way an older boy might have. He simply remained still, but for the first time, his gaze lingered. His voice was quieter when he finally spoke again. "Can you make me a king instead?"

Ríona blinked, startled. "What?"

"I want to be a king," Kael said, his gaze unwavering. "Not a prince."

For once, Ríona had no immediate retort. She studied him, the playful light in her eyes dimming just slightly as something unspoken passed between them. Then, slowly, her grin returned, softer this time, but no less certain.

"Fine," she said, tilting her chin up. "A king it is."

A whirlwind of social media activity erupted over an unexpected subject. The frenzy began when an girl group fan casually uploaded a photo of a girl with stunning beauty and an undeniable aura. Her oval face was framed by long jet-black hair pulled into a loose, low ponytail with a few delicate wisps escaped, softening her features and brushing gently against her cheeks. Her almond-shaped eyes, reminiscent of a cat's, held a calm yet magnetic depth. Perfectly arched brows framed them, adding a touch of definition to her serene expression.

Her nose was petite and delicately shaped, complementing the gentle symmetry of her face. Full lips, naturally rosy, formed a soft cupid's bow, accentuating her charm.

Her skin, smooth and luminous, contrasted beautifully with the deep black of her lace top-intricate patterns clinging to her arms like shadows dancing on porcelain. The high-waisted denim, cinched with a designer belt, added a rebellious contrast to the elegance of her top. A silk scarf, loosely knotted at her waist, fluttered slightly as she walked, an unspoken nod to her effortless styl, seemingly untouched by the world's harshness, exuding a radiance that felt almost otherworldly.

The photo taken at the same place where a famous member of a girlgroup showed up, was posted with a simple question.

"WHO IS SHE? she is so fineeee!"

Within hours, the truth was revealed: she was neither an idol nor an actress. It was Ríona Eiran Dawnstar, the only heir of the mega-group Dawnstar, a leading property developer who apparently owns half the city. The revelation sparked a storm of admiration, jealousy, and gossip. Some admired her elegance, comparing her to royalty. Others whispered about her privileged life, making up stories about her wealthy life as the only grandchild of the Dawnstar dynasty.

Yet admiration soon gave way to something more somber-pity. For beneath the glittering façade of fortune lay an undeniable truth: she might be the last of the Dawnstar. The realization struck with the weight of a tragedy long buried but never forgotten. The world still remembered the day the news broke-how the airplane carrying the Dawnstar family had plummeted from the sky, turning their legacy into wreckage scattered across the earth. Her parents, her grandfather-wiped from existence in an instant.

Ríona and her grandmother were the only survivors. A dynasty reduced to two. And no amount of wealth could shield her from the loneliness of being the last.

Oblivious to the digital storm, Ríona crouched in front of a plump tabby cat at a local cat cafe, gently scratching its chin. The cat purred contentedly as Ríona smiled, ignoring the cryptic glances from the other customers who recognized him. The faint click of cameras in the background-he was used to it by now, though it never stopped being annoying.

The spell was broken as the door to the cafe opened, and the driver approached cautiously.

"Miss Chloe is calling," he said, handing her the phone.

Ríona exhaled slowly, already predicting the storm on the other end of the line.

She stood up, pressing the phone to her ear. "Yes?"

As expected, Chloe's sharp voice cut through the speaker like a blade. "Lady, where are you now?"

"Don't call me that." Ríona glanced down at the lazy cat sprawled at her feet, absentmindedly nudging it with her toe. "A cat cafe," she mused, her tone as light as a feather, earning a sharp sigh from the other end of the line.

A sharp sigh crackled through the line. "Where are you now?"

"Why?" Ríona asked, her voice the picture of innocence.

"Because it's all over the news."

Ríona chuckled, completely unbothered. "Not my fault."

"Why don't you just come home, Ríona? your class is over two hours ago,"

Ríona smiled to herself. "What if i don't want to?"

"Mr. Édienne-"

Before Chloe could finish, Ríona ended the call with a satisfied hum. She giggled, handing the phone back to her driver.

"Let's go home."

On the way to meet Rami, the driver hesitated before breaking the silence. "Miss Ríona, did you know that you're trending on social media? Everyone's talking about you, they think you're part of idol group."

"Really?" Ríona leaned back, staring out the window.

"I should be a popstar. Life would be so much more fun."

The driver chuckled, glancing at her through the rearview mirror. "You'll outshine them all, Miss. You're far more beautiful than any celebrity ever will."

Ríona grinned, his tone turning playful. "Of course. They'll be my opening act." The two laughed together, and for a moment, the weight of expectation that had accompanied her name seemed to lift.

Her phone buzzed against the nightstand, its vibration slicing through the heavy silence. She glanced at the screen, a flicker of hesitation crossing her face-then a sinking feeling settled in her chest. Of course, it had to be her.

"Mr. Ko," Ríona called out, a sudden idea sparking in her mind.

"Yes, Lady?"

"Before we head home, can you take me somewhere else?"

The old driver glanced at her through the rearview mirror. "Where to, Lady Ríona?"

"My friend's place," she said, a small, knowing smile curving her lips. "You know, Brielle."

Mr. Ko hesitated, his expression clouded with concern. "But Miss Chloe instructed me to take you straight home."

Ríona sighed, leaning forward slightly, her voice dipping into something almost conspiratorial. "Come on. If I go home now, who knows when I'll get another chance to go out again?" She clasped her hands together in a playful plea. "Just tell them I'm heading to the library. Please?"

She knew there would be consequences. But consequences could wait.

Ríona had never set foot in a bar before. To her, bars meant deafening music and obnoxious drunk people, the last place she wanted to be. But, the ambiance inside could hardly be labeled as stereotype of bar; it was eerily hushed, with only the gentle hum of classical music and the discreet shuffle of waiters crossing paths breaking the stillness. Seated in pairs on a lengthy sofa in the heart of the room, a handful of patrons engaged in playful banter and intimate moments, a scene that left Ríona feel a bit queasy.

The interior, predominantly cloaked in deep black tones punctuated by the soft glow of dim red lights, cast an intimate atmosphere that, to Ríona's surprise, carried an unsettling edge. The hallway stretched ominously before her, flanked by closed doors that seemed to guard secrets of their own. Her navigational skills left much to be desired, evident in the perplexed furrow of her brow and the hesitant shuffle of her steps.

Lost in her thoughts and focused on her destination, Ríona inadvertently collided with a drunken man, just when she thought she could slip away, the guy's wobbly body blocked her path, his gaze turning creepier by the second.

"What's a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?"

Ríona tensed, "Looking for someone who's not you," she snapped, trying to sidestep him.

But the man blocked her path, his grin widening. "Feisty. I like that."

Her jaw tightened. "Look, I'm not interested, so move."

Instead of backing off, the man grabbed her wrist, his grip rough and unrelenting. "Oh, don't be like that, sweetheart. We could have some fun."

Ríona's eyes flashed with anger. "Fun? If you want to touch me, you'd better have enough money to buy a conscience." She twisted her wrist, trying to pull free, but his grip only tightened.

"You dare talk to me like that?" he snarled, his drunken bravado flaring into rage.

"You dare to talk to me like that?" Ríona said, crossing her arms. "Listen, I don't deal with broke losers. So unless you're planning to pay me for the privilege, don't even think about laying a finger on me."

"This bitch...," he muttered, his anger simmering dangerously close to boiling over.

"Excuse me?"

But before he could act, Ríona sprung into action. With a lightning-quick kick to his leg and a resounding slap across his cheek, she silenced him, his cries of pain echoing through the hallway alongside his curses.

In the chaos of the night's climax, fueled by his ego and rage, the perverted man's fingers clamped onto Ríona's arm with an iron grip, dragging her forcefully towards him. His sudden action sent a jolt of fear as she felt herself being pulled closer, her struggles only serving to tighten his hold.

"Get away, you idiot!" Ríona yelled, struggling against his hold, her heart racing with fear. But the man only laughed, his grip unyielding. Panic surged through Ríona as she fought to break free, her mind racing for an escape.

"Let her go."

Suddenly, a commanding voice sliced through the tension, drawing their attention to a tall figure behind them. Ríona remained rooted to the spot as the imposing figure took a step closer, his presence commanding and magnetic. As if by some enchantment, she found herself unable to move, her eyes drawn to the striking features of the man now standing before her, clearer in view than ever before.

The closer he got, the more she could appreciate the flawless symmetry of his face. His thick eyebrows were carved in perfect harmony, giving him an intense, brooding look. His tall nose had a sharp, defined tip, and his full, heart-shaped lips added a touch of softness to his otherwise stern visage. His firm jawline framed his face with strength and elegance, while his semi-long hair, slightly wet and tousled from the rain, gave him a rugged, almost ethereal charm.

Ríona held her breath, captivated and anxious. The sheer perfection of his appearance was almost overwhelming, making her feel a mix of awe and fear. It wasn't just his looks that intimidated her; it was the aura of authority he exuded. She hadn't felt this vulnerable in a long time, and the sensation was both unsettling and humbling.

"What are you doing here, Princess?"

A fear rarely seen in her except when it came to one person; Her husband.

Kael Aokuro Édienne.

The man froze, his grip faltering as he turned to face Kael. For a moment, the drunken bravado wavered, replaced by a flicker of fear. Kael didn't move, didn't raise his voice, yet his presence alone was enough to make the air heavier.

Kael watched as Ríona's breath hitched the moment he stepped closer. Her wide eyes stayed locked onto him, her guarded composure fracturing just enough for him to notice. He had seen that look before-captivated, uncertain, caught between awe and wariness. She looked vulnerable in a way that made something shift inside him, an unsettling mix of intrigue and restraint.

"What are you doing here, Princess?" his voice was quite but lethal.

She hesitated, her lips parting as if to respond, but the words didn't come.

"S-Sir...!" the man stammered, panic lacing his voice. "That–that bitch was flirting with me first!"

"That bastard." Ríona scoffed inwardly, struggling to contain her rising emotions. She had no desire to be caught up in a petty squabbles.

The words barely left his mouth before Kael moved. In a blur, his hand shot out, seizing the man's collar in an iron grip. With effortless strength, he slammed him against the wall. The impact was brutal-air whooshed from the man's lungs as his head cracked against the surface.

Kael leaned in, his voice a low, deadly whisper. "Say that again," he murmured, his tone razor-sharp, "and I'll make sure you never speak another word." His fingers tightened, cutting off what little breath the man had left. His fury burned cold, simmering just beneath the surface, but his restraint only made it more terrifying.

He choked, his body trembling violently. Kael didn't blink. Didn't move. The silence stretched, suffocating, before he finally loosened his grip just enough for the man to stumble back.

"Apologize now."