Chapter 2

Marina knew what he meant because he always told her that. Being adopted made it seem as though everything she did was a debt to him, but it wasn't. She simply knew that he was her only family, just as she was his. She didn't mind at all doing whatever he asked of her if it made him happy. It wasn't as if he asked for much; on the contrary, his requests were rare and few, and that was exactly why they were so important to her.

However, she did not justify any of this to him. She was a woman of very few words, so all she did was offer him a comfortable smile, as if to reassure him. She answered him calmly while patting his hand with her own. Because Michael knew that this was a decisive moment—and that he had to tell her the news he had hidden for more than a week—some tension appeared on his features. He quickly tried to hide it so as not to make her worry, saying without any desire to procrastinate further:

"However, my father... I honestly don't mind. So come on, tell me, what is this request?"

"In fact, I received another marriage proposal for you. For some reason, this is the only man I have decided to take a risk on and open up to you about, being sure—and my instincts tell me—that this man is the perfect fit for you..."

Marina's smile disappeared, and her features remained steadily calm. She had agreed with her father years ago that he would not bring up the issue of marriage, and he had kept his word. She always knew when someone had asked for her hand, but he usually kept it to himself to honor her desire to remain unmarried until she decided to change that herself.

So, what he said made her wonder: why now, after all these years, was he approaching her with this? And who was the man who made him believe he was suitable for her? All she could do was ask him with fixed features that betrayed none of her thoughts:

"Who is he?"

Then, for some reason, Michael spoke calmly, unaware of the chaos his words caused—unaware that what he was about to say would literally tip the scales:

"Wolf... Wolf Sierra."

Just like that... one name was enough to make her lose her breath.

Her heartbeat faltered the second he spoke his name. She slowly swallowed, feeling her heart beat wildly, as if it were about to break through her rib cage. In this state, she withdrew her hand from her father's grasp, for no reason other than that her hands had started to tremble. It was a shiver of love... a shiver of the soul... a tremor of fate occurring somewhere in the heavens.

Yes, this is what happened when she heard his name alone—a man who had formed the center of her entire life. The whole world knew him, but her heart kept him. He was dark, and she became a lover in the dark. She had loved him for years; every day was like fuel for a fire of love that was never extinguished. Rather, it grew and grew until it created an inferno inside her.

For years, she had been a lonely lover with a lonely heart, without him even knowing she existed. There was a day... a moment... a meeting of eyes between them. The day she was born into that love was the birth of her heart. But she realized he had forgotten her phantom. How could a man like him, living in the shadows and constantly climbing peaks, turn to a lover who lived in darkness for him? How could a man like him remember a little girl who sacrificed herself one day to save his life when he was focused only on drowning in the darkness?

But because she realized she was a lost lover—and that he was someone who had already handed over his heart and lost it in the game of love—she suddenly found herself trying to control her feelings so they would not show. She took a deep breath and spoke in a voice she struggled to keep steady, inquiring as if she knew nothing about him:

"But as far as I know, my father, he got married years ago. How, then, did he ask to marry me?"

Her question was a mere pretext to avoid exposing herself in front of her father. In reality, she knew everything about his past and present. For example, she knew that at this very hour, he was likely driving his gray car through downtown Madrid, smoking in that specific way that fueled her longing for the rest of the day—dressed in a black suit and a black shirt without a tie, intending to accomplish work whose exact nature she knew.

"His wife passed away a long time ago, and he has two little twins," Michael explained. "It was his father who talked to me and asked for your hand first, because he saw that you were the right person to bear the Sierra name. All my hesitation was because you would be a second wife and become responsible for two children, when you deserve to be the first."

Call it obsession... call it love.

Her thoughts were interrupted by her father's words, which were laced with hesitation and ended with a heavy sigh. No father would risk his daughter or put her in a situation like this. Some might say he was a bad father, but he was a forced father—he was truly forced, and he had his reasons.

Did he say a 'first' woman? Perhaps another woman would care about that, but he certainly didn't know that if she were permitted to be only ten miles close to him every day, she would happily accept it. Just to breathe the same air as him... to see him... to be able to sleep at night without the burning ache of distance.

Silence stretched between them for a few agonizing moments, heavy and suffocating, broken only by the faint ticking of the antique grandfather clock in the corner of the grand reception room. Marina stared ahead, her mind racing through a thousand scenarios, trying to anchor her chaotic emotions in reality. The man she had adored from the shadows, the untouchable ghost of her sleepless nights, was now suddenly within reach—yet entangled in a web of tragedy, children, and a legacy far darker than her own.

Michael watched her closely, reading the subtle shifts in her posture, acutely aware of the magnitude of the bomb he had just dropped into her quiet world. He cleared his throat softly, breaking the spell.