A Broken Mirror? To Hell with Getting Back Together!

Twenty years ago, she was a bird in his hand.

Twenty years later, she was his undoing.

That summer, when she was eighteen, she summoned the courage of a lifetime to confess her love to him.

She was an innocent girl from an ordinary family, his was a powerful, wealthy heir.

He laughed at her naivete, never realizing that the roles of hunter and prey had been reversed from the very beginning.

He arranged every step of her life, calling it “protection,” when in truth he was building her a gilded cage.

On the night she came of age, he shed his gentle disguise and coaxed and tricked her into his arms.

Only then did she understand: his love was consumption, possession, a suffocating cage.

She ran away.

She left her parents behind, cut off all contact, and assumed a new identity.

For twenty years, she lived like a shadow, all to protect the one light in her life: her son.

But fate dealt her a cruel blow the day she took her son to college.

He stood before her in a perfectly tailored suit, backed by a vast web of power and influence.

Their eyes met, and twenty years vanished in an instant.

What churned in his eyes was not remorse, but the madness and obsession of a man who had found what he’d lost.

This time, she was no longer the little girl who could only cry.

She tore up the wedding ring he offered in front of everyone, each word as sharp as a knife:

“To hell with getting back together! Broken is broken. Glue it back together and all you’ll have are cracks!”

He wanted to conquer.

She wanted freedom.

This war, delayed by twenty years, was destined to run red with blood.