The city skyline stretched endlessly from Daniel's penthouse balcony, bathed in the soft glow of twilight. From here, the world looked serene — orderly, flawless. But Daniel knew the view was a lie, much like the life he lived.
Sara had left the gala with her head held high, but Daniel had caught the flicker of pain in her eyes. That image clung to him as he returned home. He wanted to reach out, to tell her she wasn't alone. Yet here, within these walls, he was reminded of the chains he could never quite shake.
"Daniel," a commanding voice echoed from the lounge. His father, Edward Zhao, sat stiffly in a tailored suit, a glass of whiskey in hand. The man exuded authority — every inch a patriarch who expected obedience.
Daniel stepped inside, his posture instinctively straightening. "Father."
"You danced with the Li girl tonight," Edward said without preamble. His sharp eyes pinned Daniel in place. "Care to explain?"
Daniel's jaw tightened. "She's a classmate. Nothing more."
"Nothing more?" Edward's chuckle was low, humorless. "The daughter of the Li family is being positioned as a bride for our bloodline. I hear her stepmother is most eager to see the union secured."
Daniel's stomach twisted. Grace's machinations had reached even here.
Edward continued, his tone flat. "It's convenient. She comes from money, and she is pliable. You will entertain the idea."
Daniel's hands curled into fists at his sides. "She's not what you think."
Edward's gaze sharpened. "And what do you think, son?"
Daniel hesitated, then shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I'll handle it."
Edward leaned back, satisfied. "Good. Don't let emotions cloud your judgment. In our world, attachments are weaknesses."
Later, in his room, Daniel loosened his tie and collapsed onto the leather sofa. The city lights blinked below, like thousands of eyes watching him, reminding him he was never free.
The world saw him as untouchable — a future heir to power, wealth, and prestige. Yet behind closed doors, every move was dictated, every choice predetermined.
He thought of Sara — her fiery defiance at the gala, the way her voice trembled yet never broke. She stood alone against her family's weight, yet she didn't bow. He admired that strength.
Daniel picked up his phone, scrolling through messages. Adrian, Ryan, and Leo had filled their group chat with sarcastic comments about the gala. Adrian teased him about his "public performance" with Sara, Ryan claimed half the ballroom had fallen in love with her, and Leo had bluntly asked, "So, is she yours or not?"
Daniel smirked faintly. His friends knew him better than anyone — that behind the cool facade, he cared far more than he admitted.
His fingers hovered over Sara's number. Should he call her? She had looked so alone tonight, trapped in a cage that reminded him far too much of his own.
But before he could decide, the door opened. His mother stepped inside, her elegant figure framed in the soft lamplight. Unlike his father, she carried her power with quiet restraint.
"You look tired, Daniel," she said gently, crossing the room.
"I'm fine," he replied, though the weight in his voice betrayed him.
She sat beside him, her hand brushing his. "I saw you with the Li girl. You care for her, don't you?"
Daniel looked away. "She's… different."
His mother's smile was wistful, tinged with sorrow. "Be careful. In this family, love has always been a dangerous game."
Her words lingered long after she left, echoing in the silence. Daniel leaned back, staring at the ceiling. He thought of Sara again — her vulnerability, her stubborn courage.
Maybe, he thought, they weren't so different. Both bound by invisible chains, both yearning for freedom.
And maybe… just maybe, if they stood together, they could find a way to break them.