Prologue – The Day the Light TrembledSeven-year-old Abigail Chen believed the world was kind.She believed smiles meant safety.She believed grown-ups always protected children.She believed that being nice meant people would be nice back.That was who she was.Soft. Gentle. Bright.That afternoon, her mother had been in a rush.“Abi, baby, I’ll be back soon, okay?” her mum had said, kneeling in front of her and fixing her little dress. “Just stay here with Auntie. Don’t go anywhere.”Abigail nodded obediently, clutching the small teddy bear in her hands.“I’ll be good, Mama.”Her mother kissed her forehead quickly and left.And Abigail waited.The place didn’t feel like home.It smelled strange. Too loud. Too many unfamiliar faces.Women walked in and out, dressed in ways Abigail didn’t understand. Laughter echoed, but it didn’t feel happy.She sat quietly in a corner, hugging her teddy bear.Trying to be good.Trying not to cause trouble.That was when the boys noticed her.They were older. Bigger. Louder.Abigail looked up at them with wide, trusting eyes.“Hi,” she said softly, giving a small smile.They didn’t smile back the way she expected.But she didn’t understand that yet.“Do you want to play?” she asked, standing up slowly.She thought that was how you made friends.That was how it worked in her world.Kindness in. Kindness out.But something about the way they looked at her made her chest tighten slightly.She took a small step back.“I… I can share my teddy,” she added, trying to be nice.Her voice was small now.Uncertain.What happened next didn’t make sense to her.Not then.Not even later.All she knew was that something felt wrong.Very wrong.Her heart started racing.Her hands trembled.“Stop…” she whispered, confusion mixing with fear.But her voice didn’t sound strong enough.Didn’t feel strong enough.The room felt smaller.The air heavier.Her chest tightened painfully.And then—A voice cut through.“Hey!”Rough. Slurred. Angry.The boys froze.A man stumbled forward — clearly drunk, unsteady on his feet, but his eyes sharp enough to understand something wasn’t right.“Leave her alone,” he said, his tone suddenly serious.Something in his presence made the boys back away.Muttering.Retreating.And just like that—It stopped.Abigail didn’t move.She couldn’t.Her body had gone completely still.The man looked at her for a moment, then turned away, disappearing just as suddenly as he had appeared.No explanation.No comfort.Just… gone.Silence filled the space.But inside Abigail—Everything was loud.Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.Her breathing became uneven.Too fast.Too shallow.Her vision blurred.She clutched her chest, gasping softly.“I… I can’t…” she whispered.A sharp sting hit her nose.Warmth trickled down.Blood.Her small body trembled as she sank to the floor, her teddy slipping from her hands.She didn’t understand what was happening.Why she couldn’t breathe.Why everything felt so scary all of a sudden.Why the world didn’t feel kind anymore.That was the first time.The first panic.The first crack in her light.When her mother returned, Abigail said nothing.Not about the boys.Not about the fear.Not about how her heart felt like it had broken without making a sound.She just held onto her mum tightly.And stayed quiet.Because she was scared.Scared that maybe she had done something wrong.Scared no one would understand.Scared that if she spoke, the world would become even more frightening.From that day onAbigail changed.She flinched at unfamiliar boys.She avoided touch.She learned to stay distant.And slowly…She began to hide.In oversized clothes. In silence. In fear she could not name.But somewhere deep inside her—That little girl still existed.The one who believed in kindness.The one who smiled first.The one who thought the world was safe.She was still there.Waiting.Hoping.For a day when her heart wouldn’t be afraid to beat for someone again.And that…was where her story truly began.Prologue – The Heir Without a HeartRaphael Alexander Williams was born into gold.The only son of business tycoons Collen and Charlotte Williams, his name carried weight long before he could walk. The Williams empire stretched across industries—real estate, pharmaceuticals, tech investments—power woven into every handshake and contract. Their mansion in East Hollywood overlooked the city like a throne above a kingdom.But empires are loud.And the Williams home was always silent.Money filled the halls. Love never did.Their parents were present in headlines, conferences, and private jets—but rarely at dinner tables. Birthdays were replaced with black cards. Apologies came in the form of luxury cars. The children were raised by maids, nannies, chauffeurs, and security guards.They had everything.Except affection.And that absence carved Raphael into something sharp.Raphael was the only boy among five sisters, each one different.