Chapter 3

Far from what everyone thought, Samuel Anders had not always been the powerful, elegant, and envied man everyone knew. Before the designer suits, before the black cars and the business meetings on the highest floors of Livor, he had been a fragile, sick boy with too many broken dreams.

He had grown up in a marginal neighborhood, where life was worth little and the days were measured between hunger and violence. The kids beat him up for being weak, the adults despised him for having nothing, and life pushed him time and time again toward the abyss. But he never stopped looking up. Toward the city lights that, from his tin roof, looked like stars that were too far away.

And then, the Klein tragedy changed his destiny.

That night there was smoke, screams, and gunshots. Samuel, barely a skinny and weak young man, ran without thinking. He found Anthony Klein wounded, bleeding, trying to protect his wife and a little girl hiding behind the sofa: Alía. Without hesitating, Samuel stepped in, called the police, and covered them with his own body until reinforcements arrived. He still remembers the fear in the little girl's eyes, her silent crying, and how her trembling little hand clung to his.

That night marked the beginning of everything.

Anthony, grateful, wanted to adopt him, but Samuel was already older. Even so, he helped him: he gave him an education, a roof, opportunities. He introduced him to the business world, surrounded him with prestigious people, and pushed him toward a life he never imagined having.

But neither the years, nor the money, nor the fame erased his humility. Every time he looked at his reflection, he still saw the skinny boy from the neighborhood, the one who learned that pain could also turn into strength.

And among all the things he had gained, only one kept him tied to the past: Alía Klein.

He had watched her grow, become a beautiful, determined woman, so bright that sometimes it hurt to look at her. He knew that loving her was a mistake. That she was the daughter of the man who had saved him. But how do you fight against something that gives you life every time it looks at you?

He loved all her expressions: the grimace of annoyance, the mischievous smile, the eyes that shined when she got angry. She was a perfect chaos. His chaos.

"That girl is my pride," said Anthony, with a smile that escaped him with every word. "She is nineteen years old and is already one of the best actresses of her generation."

The pride in the man's gaze was also reflected in Samuel's. Anthony laughed and nudged him amicably. "Did you enjoy the party?"

"Of course," Samuel replied, letting out a sigh. "And even more so because my little one was there."

Both were in the home office, reviewing some documents. But the conversation soon turned personal.

Anthony put the papers aside and dropped onto the sofa. "Samuel, you know that Mía and Alía are all I have. I would give anything to see them well. It terrifies me that someday some bastard will come along and hurt my daughter."

Samuel felt a shiver run down his spine. He clenched his jaw. "I understand, Anthony."

"No, you don't understand," the older man replied, looking at him intently. "That's why I asked you to marry her. You are a man worthy of admiration. You came from nothing, you are responsible, honest. I know you will take care of her."

Samuel looked down, uncomfortable. He knew that Alía hated him. And yet, he had accepted. Not out of convenience, not for money. For her. Because, even if he didn't say it, he loved her.

"We are not forcing her, Samuel," Anthony said, softening his tone. "Alía is stubborn and distrustful, but deep down she likes you. She just needs time. Marrying you will be the best decision of her life."

Samuel said nothing. The silence choked him inside. In that moment he understood something that terrified him: love can also be selfish. Because he wanted to have her, even if it was at the cost of her freedom.

"Of course I will marry Alía," he finally said, firm, with a voice that trembled more than he wanted it to. "I will make her the happiest woman in the world. I will not disappoint you, Anthony."

The preparations began that same week. The Klein house was full of white flowers, designers, photographers, and an atmosphere so suffocating that Alía felt like she was drowning.

"Are you okay, Alía?" asked Sofía Michel, her best friend, while helping her choose fabrics for the dress.

"Are you seriously asking me that?" she replied, with a laugh full of rage. "This is bullshit, Sofía."

"Calm down, my friend… Samuel is—"

"Enough with that!" she interrupted her, raising her voice. "In the last few days, all I hear are compliments for the great and brave Samuel Anders."

Sofía looked down. She knew that nothing she said would change her mood. Alía, for her part, walked to the balcony. She looked down, the garden full of lights and preparations. For an instant, she thought about jumping just to escape from all of that.

"Alía," her mother's voice pulled her out of her thoughts, "Samuel is waiting for you in the living room."

She sank into the sofa. "Tell him yesterday was my funeral."

Sofía let out a muffled laugh. "You're terrible."

"And you are a bad friend for not helping me escape."

Mía walked in with a frown. "Alía, behave. Samuel has come to see you."

With no other option, the young woman sighed, smoothed her dress, and walked down the stairs. Every step weighed on her.

There he was. Standing, impeccable as always, with that serene smile that disarmed her, even if she didn't want to admit it.

"Good morning, Alía," Samuel said, with a deep and kind voice.

"Good morning," she replied, dryly.

"You look beautiful," he added.

"Thank you," she answered, without looking at him. "So, Mr. Anders?"

Samuel laughed softly. "Just call me Samuel."

That calm of his disconnected her. Any other man would have lost patience with her attitude, but not him. That, somehow, irritated her more.

"Samuel," she finally said, "how much did my father offer you?"

He frowned, surprised. "Excuse me? Your father didn't offer me anything."

"Then why did you agree to marry me?" she demanded, with a tone between fury and pain.

Samuel kept silent for a few seconds. Then, in a low voice, he replied: "My reasons are personal."

"Are you playing with me? What are you trying to do?"

He let out a sigh, his demeanor returning to that of the businessman, but his eyes spoke of something else. "I'm not trying to do anything. I just want you to be okay. Ask me for whatever you want, and I'll do it."

"End this engagement."

The silence grew heavy. Samuel looked at her with a hurt gleam in his eyes. "I'll do anything for you… except that."

Alía felt her throat close up. She turned around and walked up the stairs, but before she could get away, she felt his strong hand on her waist.

"Alía, wait," he murmured.

"What do you want?" she growled, without looking at him.

"Just… give me a chance." Samuel held her face gently. "That's all I'm asking."

She stood paralyzed. His blue eyes were an ocean impossible to ignore. For a moment, she wanted to scream at him, but her heart betrayed her.

"See you on our wedding day, Mr. Anders," she murmured, pulling away from him and fleeing to her room, her face completely red.

Samuel smiled. Because for the first time, she had trembled.

And that was enough to keep his hope alive.