Prologue

The mirror didn't lie.

Not tonight.

Amara stared at her reflection under the dim bathroom light, towel still wrapped around her damp body, mascara smudged slightly beneath her lashes. Her fingers trembled, hovering over the message glowing on her phone screen.

Zuri: "I heard Markus paid someone to ruin your last interview. Again. Amara, you need to run. This man isn't love. He's a curse."

She clenched her jaw.

Markus.

His name tasted like melted sugar laced with venom.

A knock on the door made her jolt.

"Amara?" came his voice, low and smooth like jazz under moonlight. "Are you okay, love?"

Her heart stuttered. For a moment—just a moment—she remembered.

---

Flashback — 9 months ago, Prague

"Are you always this nervous?" Markus teased, brushing a thumb across her cheek as they stood outside the candlelit restaurant, the night air crisp against her shoulders.

"I'm not used to men like you," Amara replied, blushing. "Older. Confident. And charming like a villain in a Netflix series."

He laughed. "You think I'm the villain?"

She tilted her head, smiling up at him. "A handsome one."

"I'd never hurt you, Amara," he whispered, drawing her close. "Everything about you is... real. I want to protect that."

He kissed her then—slow and reverent—like she was a secret he wanted to worship.

---

Present — Nairobi

Amara gripped the counter, blinking away the memory as if it were smoke.

He had looked so sincere back then. Made her feel like a fairytale was unfolding. But fairytales didn't come with NDA threats, fake job rejections, or close friends who mysteriously stopped calling after sharing his bed.

"I'll be right out," she called, steadying her voice.

"Take your time," he replied, gentle as ever.

Always gentle.

Until he wasn't.

She opened the cabinet below the sink, where she'd stuffed an envelope—Natalie's latest research. Photos. Transactions. Names. A tangled web that all led back to him.

To Markus Adler.

To the man she once believed was her beginning.

Now... he felt like her end.

---

Flashback — 6 months ago

She lay in his arms, heart still racing from the kind of love that left you breathless.

"Promise me you'll never lie to me," she whispered, tracing circles on his chest.

"I couldn't lie to you if I tried," he replied, stroking her hair.

Another lie.

She didn't know then that while he kissed her forehead, he was texting someone else. That while he whispered dreams, he was paying to erase hers.

---

Present — Now

She walked out of the bathroom, dressed and composed, eyes sharper than before.

Markus stood by the window, phone in hand, wearing that same navy robe she used to steal when she missed him.

"You've been quiet tonight," he said, not looking up. "Something on your mind?"

She smiled, tight and measured. "Just tired."

"Of me?"

He turned now, and for a split second, she almost fell into those familiar grey eyes. The ones that once made her forget how to breathe.

"I'm just tired of being someone I'm not," she said softly.

He stepped toward her.

"I've only ever wanted to give you the world, Amara."

She held his gaze.

"And yet you've done everything to keep me from it."

His eyes flickered, just slightly.

In that crack, she saw it—the man behind the mask. The one who played puppeteer while pretending to be protector.

And in that moment, she didn't just feel fear. She felt something else rising in her chest.

Clarity.

---

Later That Night

She sat in the dark, watching the city lights blink below. Her fingers hovered over Natalie's contact.

Should she do it?

Should she finally burn it all down?

Her phone buzzed.

Markus: "Come to bed. The night feels lonely without you."

She didn't reply.

Instead, she whispered to the stars, "He kissed me like I was the world... then tore mine apart with a smile."

Then, slowly, she picked up her phone and typed:

> "Let's start. I'm done being his puppet."

Because finally… the first thread had snapped.