We sat around the fire, laughing at one of my father's jokes. The smell of roasted meat filled the grand hall. There was no warning of danger... until the screams began.
Then the flames erupted.
I ran onto the balcony, my heart almost stopping. Darkness enveloped the forest, but the fire was consuming everything. I saw them-masked figures moving through the shadows, their eyes burning with hate and their swords dripping with blood.
It wasn't an intrusion... it was a massacre.
I ran through the corridors, my bare feet trembling on the marble. Corpses lay scattered, windows shattered, walls crumbling, and screams echoing through the night.
Then I saw my father. He stood amid chaos, his sword stained, his eyes scanning for me. I ran to him-but he stumbled and fell to one knee.
"Father!" I screamed, rushing to his side only to see a sword driven into his back.
I froze... The attacker was tall, masked in black. He slowly withdrew the blade, letting my father's body collapse. His cold blue eyes met mine. No mercy.
Before he could kill me, my father pushed me toward a hidden passage.
"Run, Celine!"
"But... Mother, Mira..."
"They're gone," were his final words, before the sword silenced him forever.
My world shattered. All I heard were my own heartbeats. All I saw was blood.
Then I fled.
I don't know how I reached the forest or how far I ran. All I remember is bleeding, trembling, and feeling my soul die inside.
Then I crashed into something solid.
"Fuck... what-?!"
I lifted my head and saw blue eyes-cold, but not like the killer's. He was tall, rugged, with dark brown hair and a black leather jacket over a powerful physique. Behind him, a luxury car gleamed in the dark.
He was no ordinary stranger. He was a man in control.
"Who the hell are you?" he asked in a deep voice.
I didn't answer. Then darkness took me.
---
I awoke in soft light. A high wooden ceiling. The smell of coffee and fine leather. I heard a quiet fire crackling and a cold breeze drifting in through an open window.
"Finally awake."
I turned quickly and saw him sitting in a large leather chair, watching me silently.
"Where am I?" I whispered, my voice barely more than a breath.
"In my home." He replied coldly, raising a whiskey glass. "I found you in the forest, bleeding and unconscious. Now tell me... who are you?"
My mind swirled. I placed my hand on my head. One thing was clear: I had no home anymore.
"What's your name?"
I hesitated, then whispered, "Celine."
I didn't say my last name-I have none now.
He stared at me for a moment, then sighed. "I'm Michael Joseph. A professional fighter, billionaire, and owner of the country's largest combat network. I don't like uninvited guests. But since you're here, you might as well tell me why you were in the forest, looking like you came straight from hell."
Something inside me broke. I gripped the blanket and whispered, "Because that's exactly where I came from."
I saw a flicker in his expression. He didn't ask more. He rose and walked toward the window.
"You have two choices. Stay here and learn to protect yourself-or leave now and die out there."
I looked into his eyes. They were swollen, burning with unshed tears. "I want to learn."
He nodded slowly, as if he expected me to choose that path. "Then prepare yourself. Life here won't be easy. I won't be kind, and I won't spoil you. You'll be like a little sister to me, and I'll teach you how to transform from a broken girl... into an undefeatable fighter."
I was no longer the weak girl who laughed by the fire with her family. What was born that day... was a new creature.
I must learn to be strong. To fight. To hide my fear... Michael isn't merciful, but he's fair. He's more than a powerful man-he's the one teaching me to live when I thought I had died.
The man who killed my family thinks I died with them. He will learn otherwise soon... I will hide... and I will return.
But I will not return as a lost girl. I will return as a storm of fire... and I will have my revenge... no matter the cost.
―――――
Days passed. I lost count. Maybe a whole year. They all blended together. I became Celine Joseph. Michael showed no mercy-and I didn't ask for any. Brutality didn't hurt me anymore... Became my way to survive.
My footsteps echo among the others', yet I hear them as noise within myself. Stone floors try to hold me steady-but fail. Eyes watch me from every direction. Expectant looks that hunger for my failure more than my triumph.
And there he stands. Michael. Still as a statue in the center of the circle. No anger. No warmth. Only that unsettling calm-the one before a storm.
Then his voice cuts the air. Low, but sharp as steel: "Here we are. In front of everyone. Show me what you've learned, Celine."
Every part of me trembles, though I show none of it. My heart pounds against my chest as I force myself forward. I stand before him. Close-too close-but there's a sea of ice between us.
I try to sound steady: "Michael... we don't have to perform this in front of them. We can train later-"
But he interrupts, as always. "This isn't a game. Hit me."
His words hit me like an invisible slap. My heart froze. He's serious. He wants me to hit him in front of everyone. Does he want them seeing me humiliated? I... just a girl beside a man like him?
I hesitate. Lift my hand. A light blow-barely touches his shoulder. Then it all shifts.
His hand crashes like thunder, his punch landing in my chest. The air leaves my lungs. I collapse to the ground. Pain rips through me, deeper than any physical blow. In that moment... I hated him. As much as I trusted him.
Gasps. Shocked faces. But no one moves.
I struggle to breathe. Rise up. Hide trembling hands. Look up at him from the floor. "Do you think I'm a doll you can kick whenever you want?!" I burst out, the anger raw in my voice.
He steps closer. His shadow engulfs me. His eyes unblinking. Then he says softly but deadly: "No, I think you're still that pampered princess... who needed a hard slap to remember that this world doesn't revolve around you."
Princess?! He made that princess. He tore me from my old world and rebuilt me in his image. And now he despises me?
He steps back, leaving me there. The floor tightens around me, and everyone is silent.
―――――
Moments later... I see him. Screaming at a new recruit, shoving him into the wall. The boy trembles. He repeats the same scene over and over... Michael-angry, afraid to admit his own fear.
I stand with my arms crossed, anger burning inside me. I speak coldly: "If you killed everyone who looked at me, you'd have killed the whole crew, Michael."
He turns to me, voice fierce: "You see glances... I see intentions."
I move toward him. I no longer fear him, but I feel fear for him... of himself. "No. You see threat in everything. Even in the eyes of a kid who knows nothing of hate."
He pounds the wall with his fist. The stone cracks. Dust falls. I just keep staring.
"No one here is looking at you!" he shouts from the depths of himself. "This isn't a romance novel! There's no handsome hero here! Everyone here is a killer... including you."
I stare back. I don't answer. Because he's right. And he's wrong. Yes-I've become a fighter. But I wasn't born one. He planted that fire inside me... And now, I will burn with it... or burn everyone else.
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