Chapter 1

I still remember the day my father scolded me for getting into a fight at school. I was only seventeen years old then. He hit me with his belt, and I was left with scars and bruises all over my body.

"You're so much trouble," he said, his voice filled with anger and disgust. "I wouldn't have adopted you if I knew you'd be such a problem."

His words cut deep, and I felt a surge of pain and sadness. But I knew I had to be strong, so I didn't cry.

After he left, his secretary, Mr. Cruz, came in and saw me lying on the floor. Instead of helping me, he just smiled and said, "Next time, don't take my words for granted."

I was shocked and hurt by his response. I realized that I was truly alone, with no one to turn to for help.

This wasn't the first time my father had been cruel to me. It had been happening since I was nine years old. I grew up in an orphanage, not knowing who my real parents were. The nuns who took care of me told me that my mother had left me outside the orphanage when I was a baby.

But I never held a grudge against her. Instead, I waited for her return, hoping that she would come back for me one day.

Then, a mysterious man appeared in my life. I thought he was my mother, but it turned out that he was my adoptive father.

"You're now Antonio Jose Placido," he said, handing me a chocolate bar. "That's your new name."

I was so deceived by his fake smile and charming demeanor. I had no idea that my life was about to become a nightmare.

As I grew up, my father's cruelty only intensified. He would lock me in my room for days, denying me food and water. He would beat me mercilessly, leaving me with scars and bruises.

One day, I decided to sneak out of my room and explore the house. That's when I stumbled upon my father's office, and what I saw shocked me.

My father and my private tutor were hugging each other, whispering secrets to each other. I was stunned, and I didn't know what to make of it.

My father saw me standing there, and he immediately became angry. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

I was scared, but I tried to stay calm. My father warned me not to tell my mother what I saw, threatening to send me back to the orphanage if I did.

I was terrified, so I kept my mouth shut. But the memory of what I saw haunted me, and I knew that I had to escape my father's cruelty someday.

“Anton, whatever you saw today, don't ever tell your mommy, do you understand? You don't want us to separate and go back to where you came from, don't you?” he whispered to me, while I just silently looked at him. Fearing that I might return to my old life where I was alone, I chose to keep my mouth shut and hide everything I knew from my mother. “Very good, Anton.” He added to me while placing one of his hands on my head and ruffling my hair. After a few moments, my mother came inside, and he immediately came to her and hugged her tightly. Then she came to me with a smile on her lips, and then she hugged me while I just focused on my father who was staring at me intently.

My mother's hug was warm and comforting, but I couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. My father's words kept echoing in my mind, and I felt like I was trapped in a web of secrets and lies.

As my mother pulled back and looked at me, I forced a smile onto my face. "Hey, sweetie, how was your day?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with kindness.

I hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say. But then I remembered my father's warning, and I knew I had to keep quiet. "It was fine, Mom," I said, trying to sound casual.

My mother nodded and smiled, seemingly unaware of the tension in the air. "That's good, sweetie. I'm glad to hear that."

As we stood there, my father's eyes never left mine. I could feel his gaze burning into my skin, reminding me of the secret I was keeping. I knew that I had to be careful, that one wrong move could mean disaster.

But as I looked at my mother, I felt a pang of guilt. She was so kind and loving, and I knew that she would be hurt if she found out about my father's secret. I was trapped between my loyalty to my father and my love for my mother.

As the silence stretched out, my father finally broke the tension. "Let's go have dinner, shall we?" he said, his voice booming through the room.

I nodded, relieved to have an excuse to escape the awkwardness. As we walked to the dining room, I couldn't help but feel like I was living a lie. And I knew that it was only a matter of time before the truth came out.

As we sat down to dinner, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. My father's secret was weighing heavily on my mind, and I knew that I had to be careful not to let anything slip.

My mother chatted happily throughout the meal, oblivious to the tension between my father and me. I tried to join in, but my mind was elsewhere.

As the dinner drew to a close, my father pushed his chair back and stood up. "I have some work to attend to," he said, his eyes glinting in the light. "Anton, come with me."

I hesitated, unsure of what to do. But my mother just smiled and nodded. "Go ahead, sweetie. Your father needs you."

I got up from the table, feeling a sense of trepidation. What did my father want from me? And what would happen if I didn't do what he said?

As I followed my father out of the dining room, I couldn't shake off the feeling that I was in grave danger. Little did I know, my life was about to take a dramatic turn.

We walked in silence to my father's study, the only sound being the creaking of the floorboards beneath our feet. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, and I knew that I had to be brave.

As we entered the study, my father closed the door behind us and turned to face me. His eyes were cold and hard, and I knew that I was in trouble.

"Anton, I know you saw something today," he said, his voice low and menacing. "Something that you shouldn't have seen."

I swallowed hard, trying to think of what to say. But before I could respond, my father's expression changed. He looked almost...sad.

"I'm sorry, Anton," he said, his voice cracking with emotion. "I never meant for you to see that. But now that you have, I have to make sure that you don't tell anyone."

I felt a chill run down my spine as my father's words hung in the air. What did he mean? And what would happen if I didn't do what he said?

My father's eyes seemed to bore into my soul, as if he could see right through me. I felt a shiver run down my spine as he took a step closer to me.

"Anton, I'm going to give you a choice," he said, his voice low and menacing. "You can either forget what you saw today, or...or you can face the consequences."

I swallowed hard, trying to process what my father was saying. What consequences? And what would happen if I didn't forget?

My father's eyes seemed to gleam with a sinister light, and I knew that I had to be careful. I didn't know what he was capable of, but I knew that I didn't want to find out.

"I'll forget," I said quickly, trying to placate him. "I won't say anything."

My father's expression changed, and for a moment, I thought I saw a glimmer of relief. But then his face hardened again, and he turned away from me.

"Good," he said, his voice cold and detached. "I'm glad we understand each other, Anton."

I watched as my father walked over to his desk and sat down, his back to me. I knew that I had to get out of there, to escape from the suffocating atmosphere of the study.

I turned and made my way to the door, my heart pounding in my chest. As I reached the door handle, I heard my father's voice behind me.

"Anton."

I turned to see my father looking at me, his eyes cold and hard.

"Don't think that this is over," he said, his voice low and menacing. "I'll be watching you, Anton. Always."

I felt a chill run down my spine as I realized the true extent of my father's power. I knew that I had to be careful, to watch my every move.

I nodded, trying to show that I understood. And then I turned and walked out of the study, leaving my father's sinister presence behind.

Growing up, I witnessed my father bring multiple women into our home. Many of these women became my private tutors, and I later discovered that they were also his secret lovers. My mother remained oblivious to these affairs.

As time passed, I became accustomed to the darkness that surrounded me. I learned to accept my fate and hide my true emotions. I almost forgot about my past and where I came from, considering my adoptive parents as my real family.

I grew up interacting with influential people in the industry and business. I was known for being quiet, cold-hearted, intelligent, talented, and skilled in sports.

At a party, my father's business partner joked, "Who would have thought that your son Anton was a perfect man? Many women must like him, and his future wife will surely benefit from him."

My father chimed in, "His wife should also be a perfect girl, as Anton will be the future of the Placido corporation, right, son?" He placed his arm on my shoulder, and I nodded, expressionless.

As the conversation continued, I noticed a beautiful woman in a pink dress approaching us. I was taken aback by her beauty, and the men around us couldn't help but stare.

My father introduced me to her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Suarez. Brigitte's father seemed strict, with a reputation as a successful businessman.

Mr. Suarez revealed that he knew me through his daughter, who often spoke about me. Brigitte hid behind her father, appearing embarrassed.

My father's partner continued, "Actually, Anton is well-known at the university, and many women admire him. Brigitte is one of them; she's our princess, number one idol."

I felt uncomfortable and unsure of how to respond. My father intervened, "It's our pleasure to have Princess Brigitte join our family, isn't it, Anton? What do you think? Can't you see that she'll be your future wife?"

I was astonished. "Wife? Aren't they too young to discuss that?" my mother asked, but the adults seemed more concerned with business than our well-being.

My father explained, "It's better for them to be open-minded about marriage while they're young. They can produce heirs for the future." I felt shocked and disbelieving.

Mr. Suarez added, "You don't have to worry about the wedding; we'll take care of everything." Brigitte smiled, seemingly unconcerned, which puzzled me.

My father noticed my disapproval and held my hand tightly, forcing a smile. "If that's what you want, we won't refuse. But if you need something else, just tell us, and we hope the marriage will be successful."

I felt shocked and trapped. They all seemed excited about the arranged marriage, without considering my feelings. I wanted to object, but I felt powerless.

Mr. Suarez suggested, "Why don't we let them talk and get to know each other?" The adults agreed, leaving Brigitte and me alone.

Brigitte approached me, handing me a red box. "For you," she said. "I baked these cookies for you; I hope you like them." I stared at the box, unsure of how to react.

As I looked up at Brigitte, I accidentally hit her hand, causing the box to fall and the cookies to scatter. Her eyes widened in shock, and she covered her mouth.

Before I could apologize, our parents intervened, misunderstanding the situation. "Anton, what did you do? Apologize to Brigitte right now," my father demanded.

I clenched my fists, feeling frustrated and trapped. Brigitte's tears seemed insincere, and I wondered why she was pretending. I refused to apologize, knowing I had done nothing wrong.

Instead, I turned and walked away, my fists still clenched. "I will decide what I want to do in life. I will choose the woman I will marry, and I will never let that woman enter my life," I whispered to myself.

I got into my car and drove home, feeling a sense of determination and rebellion.

As I walked into the mansion, I couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. I felt like I was living in a prison, with my parents controlling every aspect of my life.

I went straight to my room, locking the door behind me. I needed some time alone to think and process everything that had happened.

As I sat on my bed, I couldn't help but think about Brigitte. She was beautiful, but there was something about her that didn't seem genuine. I wondered if she was just playing a role, pretending to be someone she wasn't.

I also thought about my parents and their plans for me. I knew I couldn't let them control my life forever. I needed to find a way to break free from their grasp and forge my own path.

As I sat there, lost in thought, I heard a knock on the door. It was my mother.

"Anton, can I come in?" she asked, her voice soft.

I hesitated for a moment before unlocking the door. My mother walked in, looking concerned.

"Anton, what's wrong? You've been acting strange all day," she said, sitting down next to me on the bed.

I sighed, unsure of how to explain everything that was going through my mind. "I just feel trapped, Mom. Like I'm living in a prison and I don't have any control over my own life," I said, trying to put my feelings into words.

My mother looked at me with a mixture of surprise and understanding. "I know it's hard, Anton. But your father and I are just trying to do what's best for you. We want to make sure you have a secure future," she said, putting a hand on my arm.

I pulled my arm away, feeling frustrated. "But what about what I want, Mom? What about my own dreams and aspirations? Don't they matter?" I asked, my voice rising.

My mother looked at me, her eyes filled with a deep sadness. "I'm sorry, Anton. I didn't realize you felt this way. We'll talk about this more, okay?" she said, standing up to leave.

As she walked out of the room, I felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, I could find a way to break free from my parents' control and forge my own path in life.

I spent the rest of the day lost in thought, trying to process everything that had happened. I couldn't shake off the feeling that my parents were hiding something from me, and that my whole life was a lie.

As the sun began to set, I heard a knock on the door. It was my mother again.

"Anton, I've been thinking," she said, her voice hesitant. "Maybe we should talk to your father about how you're feeling. Maybe we can find a way to give you more freedom and control over your own life."

I looked at her skeptically. "Do you really think Dad will listen?" I asked.

My mother sighed. "I don't know, Anton. But we have to try. For your sake, and for mine."

I nodded, feeling a small sense of hope. Maybe, just maybe, things could change.

The next day, my mother and I sat down with my father in his study. My mother explained how I was feeling, and I added my own thoughts and feelings.

My father listened, his expression unreadable. When we finished, he leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers.

"I understand how you feel, Anton," he said. "But you have to understand that our family's reputation and legacy are at stake. We can't just let you do whatever you want and risk everything we've built."

I felt a surge of frustration. "That's not fair," I said. "I'm not a child anymore. I deserve to have some control over my own life."

My father's expression turned cold. "You'll do what's best for this family, Anton. And that's final."

I felt a chill run down my spine. I knew that I had to escape, to get away from my father's control and forge my own path. But how?

As I left the study, I caught sight of Brigitte standing in the hallway. She smiled at me, and I felt a pang of unease. What was she doing here? And what did she want from me?

I tried to ignore Brigitte and walk past her, but she fell into step beside me.

"Anton, can I talk to you for a minute?" she asked, her voice sweet and innocent.

I sighed and stopped walking, turning to face her. "What is it, Brigitte?"

She looked up at me with big, brown eyes. "I just wanted to apologize for yesterday. I know you didn't mean to knock the cookies out of my hand, and I shouldn't have gotten upset."

I raised an eyebrow, surprised by her apology. "It's okay, Brigitte. I'm the one who should be apologizing. I was just really stressed out yesterday."

Brigitte smiled and nodded. "I understand. My parents can be pretty overwhelming sometimes."

I felt a pang of surprise at her words. It was the first time I'd heard her say something that sounded even remotely genuine.

" Yeah, they can be," I agreed.

Brigitte looked up at me again, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "So, Anton, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"Do you really not want to marry me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

I felt a surge of surprise at her question. How did she know that I didn't want to marry her?

"Where did you hear that?" I asked, trying to stall.

Brigitte smiled mischievously. "I have my ways. But seriously, Anton, I want to know. Do you really not want to marry me?"

I hesitated, unsure of how to answer. But then I looked into her eyes and saw something there that gave me pause.

"I don't know, Brigitte," I said finally. "I don't even know you."

Brigitte nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "That's fair. But I want you to know that I'm not just some pawn in my parents' game, Anton. I have my own thoughts and feelings, and I want to get to know you better."

I felt a surge of surprise at her words. Was it possible that Brigitte was more than just a pretty face? Was it possible that she was someone I could actually talk to?

As I looked into her eyes, I felt a spark of curiosity ignite within me. Maybe, just maybe, Brigitte was worth getting to know after all.