PROLOGUE

"ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THIS, LUCK?"

I turned to look at Vien, my gaze steady and unwavering. She was my girlfriend of two years—two years stolen in whispers and secrecy. I simply nodded to her. We were both eighteen, barely adults, yet the weight of generations and politics rested heavily on our young shoulders.

My name is Lucky, a cruel irony, for my life has rarely felt so. I had loved her since we were children, yet we were forced to hide even our basic friendship when we were still kids. Our families were sworn, bitter rivals—a curse bequeathed by the deep roots of partisan politics.

Damn politics. It had poisoned everything.

The animosity between the Purzuelos, her lineage, and the Lacuezos, my own clan, was long-standing and vicious. For generations, our great-great-grandfathers had been locked in a seemingly endless cycle of contention, fighting fiercely for the seat of Governor. This bitter feud had settled deep into the soil of our history and continued to consume the present.

Yet, this generational strife failed to extinguish the spark between us. It couldn't stop our clandestine friendship from blossoming into a profound and resilient love, a relationship that had somehow survived two full years despite the constant threat of discovery.

I had tried to be honest, to appeal to my family's sense of reason, hoping they might understand the depth of my commitment. But they simply didn't care. Their only response was outright, cold-hearted prohibition.

"Lucky, stop seeing her! How many times do I have to tell you? If you don't obey me this time, I swear, I will send you to your dad in the US!" The threat from my mom last week still echoed in my mind, the tone clipped with finality and authoritative warning.

My parents separated a long time ago, but they remained on civil terms. My father lives in the United States with his new family. Going there was the last thing I wanted—not just because of the massive upheaval, but primarily because I couldn't bear the thought of being separated from Vien.

In the eyes of other people, perhaps we were indeed too young, or maybe they’d label us reckless and impulsive. But for us, this desperate measure was the only lifeline we could see, the final answer to prevent my girlfriend and I from being torn apart forever. That was why, tonight, we were going to run away. We were going to elope.

"Luck?"

Her soft voice pulled me out of my intense contemplation. I turned my eyes to hers, connecting with her intensely, and gripped her hand tightly, a silent promise of eternal protection in that single gesture.

I started the car engine, the low growl of the motor sounding like the soundtrack of our impending freedom. Tonight, we would drive away. I didn't care about the consequences anymore. I wasn't the kind of person who made reckless, spontaneous decisions. Every action I took had to be thought through, not just ten times, but often a hundred—a cautious trait I’d inherited from my calculating political family.

I knew this monumental decision would cause immense pain to my family. However, I was not merely a young man desperate to get married. I was a young man who had been denied his freedom, trapped by rigid expectations, and now, finally, I was summoning the courage to fight for the one thing that had been explicitly forbidden to me.

"Yes, Vien. If they’re just going to separate us anyway, I won't allow it. What about you? Can you bear to be away from me? Will you truly agree to be married off to someone else?"

"No, of course not!" Her voice held a fierce refusal, and I saw the burning determination reflected in her eyes, matching the resolve blazing in my own heart. "You’re right. Let’s run away, love."

I had borrowed this car from my best friend, Bernard. Using my own or Vien's car would only hasten our families' ability to track us down. Our destination was a private resort owned by Bernard’s family. It wasn't open yet, and he'd told us we could stay there while he helped us process the necessary documents and everything else we needed to leave the country permanently.

I truly was lucky to have a friend like him. His family was also influential, but that wasn't why I—why we—felt so fortunate. It was because he was the kind of friend who I knew would move mountains to protect the people he loved most. And it was comforting to know that Vien and I were counted among those people.

When I first told him my plan, I saw immediate concern cross his face. He advised me to take time and think it over thoroughly. That’s exactly what I did; I let two months pass, thinking I might just be acting rashly. But I wasn't. This was the best course of action. The tensions between our families were only escalating, making any other outcome impossible.

When I finally told Bernard every detail of our flight, he voluntarily and diligently helped me plan everything, right down to the last detail.

That night, all I—all we—wanted was to run away and find happiness. But I didn't know that the simple wish and desire of my young heart then would be the very thing that would shatter me for the longest time.

Vien, you can never be brought back.

Vien, nothing can ever be returned to the way it was.

I closed my eyes tightly. Her smiling face flashed before me again. The entire day replayed in a vivid, agonizing reel: the heated argument with my parents upon waking up, the serious talk with Bernard, the conversation with Vien full of shared hope, the moment I was driving, convinced we were finally free, and now, the hellish reality of my present location.

I didn't have the strength left to try and stand up or leave this place. I managed a slight smile as my breath raggedly caught in my throat. My chest tightened painfully, and tears streamed relentlessly from my eyes.

The earth was covering almost my entire body, even my face. I had tasted some of it earlier; dirt had gotten into my eyes, and some had gone up my nose, yet I still smiled. Because I knew that I was now with the person I loved.

We will be together now, Vien...

But after 10 years...