The spoiled heiress.
Ivanna Sean was breathtaking, everyone agreed on that.
Daughter of the influential Sean family, heir to old money and new empire, she possessed the kind of beauty that turned heads effortlessly. But behind that flawless face was a personality even more famous than her looks.
Ivanna was… difficult.
A perfectionist to the extreme.
A narcissist with standards higher than the sky.
A gorgeous storm wrapped in silk and diamonds.
She had been adored since birth, pampered like a rare jewel and indulged like royalty. And it showed. Her temper was sharp, her tongue even sharper, and her obsession with cleanliness made living with her feel like stepping into a museum where even dust was terrified to appear.
People loved to admire Ivanna Sean.
They just didn't want to deal with her.
By the time she reached marriageable age, the Sean family had brought forward the most eligible bachelors in the city, powerful men, wealthy heirs, brilliant scholars. One after another, they tried.
One after another, they ran.
Some lasted a week. Some a day. One lasted only two hours before sending a polite message claiming he had "suddenly remembered an urgent life-long vow of celibacy.
The twentieth man who agreed to date her lasted three days before vanishing without a trace.
Ivanna, however, remained gloriously unbothered.
To her, none of them were worthy.
To her family, she was becoming a national disaster.
By twenty-five, panic settled into the Sean household. Their precious daughter was not only unmarried, she had somehow earned the infamous nickname:
"The Legendary Spoiled Brat of the Upper Circle."
Still, Ivanna floated through life untouched, unconcerned, and uninterested in the idea of marriage. But the Seans were done waiting.
So, for her twenty-fifth birthday, they planned an event the city had never witnessed before.
The grandest.
The most extravagant.
The most luxurious party of the year.
Gold-themed halls, crystal chandeliers flown in from Italy, orchestras, fireworks, and a guest list so elite it made the news three days beforehand.
Prominent men from all over the country, even from beyond its borders, received invitations embossed in gold and sealed with the Sean family crest.
It wasn't just a birthday celebration.
It was a hunt.
A global showcase.
A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for the Sean family to finally find a man, any man, capable of handling the legendary Ivanna Sean.
WHISPERS IN THE GOLDEN HALL
The Sean mansion glittered like a palace that night. A thousand lights dripped from the chandeliers, the orchestra played rich classical strings, and the entire venue smelled of roses imported from France. On the surface, it was perfect, an event crafted to impress kings.
But beneath the music… the whispers began.
Those who came to admire the Sean family found themselves murmuring behind jeweled fans and crystal glasses.
"Look at this extravagance," one foreign investor whispered.
"Only the Seans can throw a party this grand… for a daughter like that."
"If only Ivanna Sean had a better personality," another said with a pitying sigh.
"She would be the perfect heiress. Beauty without grace is wasted, don't you think?"
"She chased away twenty suitors. Twenty! Even a demon would've married one by accident by now."
Foreign guests, initially ignorant, soon found themselves enlightened by the vicious gossip swirling around the hall.
Ivanna's name spread through the crowd like perfume laced with poison.
By the time the rumors reached the Sean family, they could only smile politely through their growing panic. They had tried everything, discipline, tutors, etiquette coaches, blind dates, therapy, but Ivanna was Ivanna… unchangeable, unstoppable, untamable.
And as they looked around the glittering hall filled with eligible men, none seemed remotely interested.
The fear settled in their hearts:
Would their daughter grow old alone?
While the gossip thickened, tucked away in a shadowed corner of the hall sat a young man who did not belong to the glittering chaos around him.
Refined. Composed. Dangerous.
He wore a dark suit so perfectly cut it looked sculpted onto his body. His presence carried an air of nobility, cold, controlled, and quietly commanding. His expression remained unreadable as he swirled the deep red wine in his glass, the liquid reflecting the chandelier lights like blood beneath crystal.
He seemed not to listen, yet not a single word escaped him.
A man approached silently and bowed deeply.
"Everything is in order according to plan, my prince."
The prince did not look at him immediately.
He simply rolled the wine in his glass, thinking… calculating.
Then, with a voice smooth enough to hide a blade, he said:
"Nicolás… put everything on hold. The plan has changed."
Nicolás' head snapped up.
"My prince? How do you mean?"
"Approach the Sean family," the prince said calmly, "and speak to them about a marriage alliance. Immediately."
Nicolás went pale.
"What?" he whispered, horrified. "No, my prince, that is not right. Marriage is not a toy to be tossed into strategy…"
The prince raised an eyebrow.
Nicolás swallowed hard and continued in a trembling voice,
"You cannot possibly consider marrying the daughter of your enemy. And Ivanna Sean… forgive me, my prince, but she has a reputation that is far beneath your status. Please reconsider."
The prince lowered his wine glass, finally turning his head.
A smile, slow, cold, and wicked, curved his lips.
In that moment, he looked like temptation crafted by the devil himself.
"You misunderstand me, Nicolás." His voice was silk wrapped around steel.
"I am not abandoning my revenge. I am simply choosing a… more intimate strategy."
Nicolás' eyes widened.
"But to marry a girl like her…"
"I have no intention of keeping her," the prince said sharply, his eyes gleaming.
"I will use her. I will make her watch as her precious family crumbles under my hands.
And when I am done, I will simply divorce her... Quietly."
Nicolás bowed again, troubled.
"But there is another issue, my prince. The Seans are obsessed with prestige. They will never agree to marry their only daughter to a man whose identity is unknown or below their standing. Without revealing who you are, they may refuse."
A low chuckle escaped the prince's lips.
"Oh, Nicolás… look around."
He gestured slightly with his glass.
"There is desperation in every corner of this room. This extravagant party? Nothing more than a glittering facade. The Seans are drowning. Their daughter's reputation is poison, and they are scrambling for a cure."
He took another sip of wine.
"Create a profile for me. A convincing one. Wealthy enough. Influential enough. I do not care what strings you pull. They just need to believe it."
"And… when do you intend for this marriage to occur?" Nicolás asked cautiously.
The prince leaned back, crossing one leg over the other.
"Before the end of this week."
Nicolás almost choked.
"The e-end of this week? My prince, forgive me, but why the sudden rush?"
"Because," the prince said, eyes narrowing, "desperation invites vultures. If I wait too long, some greedy fool may attempt to marry her for her family's wealth or connections."
He set his glass down with a soft click.
"And I will not let any man claim the pawn I need for my revenge.
Now go. Prepare everything."
Nicolás bowed deeply, voice trembling.
"Yes, my prince."
The man known only as Eugene Y belonged to a lineage spoken of in hushed tones, a clan so powerful that even kings feared to whisper their true name.
A dynasty cloaked in mystery.
A family whose reach extended far beyond borders, beyond nations… beyond laws.
They were the York Clan.
A royal house with ancient blood, controlling hidden military forces, covert financial empires, and political networks embedded in governments across the world.
Their wealth was immeasurable.
Their influence, incomparable.
Their wrath… legendary.
It was said that no one had ever crossed the York family and survived to tell the story.
Eugene himself was a phantom prince, one who rarely appeared in public, whose identity was shielded so thoroughly that the world only knew his silhouette, never his face.
And yet… here he was, stepping into the Sean family's lives with disarming elegance and a fabricated name:
"Eugene Y."
Just a letter.
A vague initial.
A wall between his vengeance and his true identity.
And the Seans, blinded by sheer luck and overwhelming relief, did not question it.
Within days, their alliance became the hottest headline in the country, and shockwaves rippled far beyond it.
The Seans were suddenly on every television screen, every magazine cover, every business discussion.
"SEAN HEIRESS TO WED MYSTERIOUS TYCOON!"
"WHO IS EUGENE Y?"
"A MATCH MADE IN POWER!"
Social media burned with curiosity.
Who was the man who arrived in a convoy of luxury cars, presented gifts worth more than some companies, and carried an aura so aristocratic that even seasoned billionaires felt the need to bow slightly in his presence?
Wedding planners whispered.
Celebrities envied.
Business moguls clenched their teeth.
And the Sean family?
They were glowing, no, radiating with pride.
This was beyond anything they had hoped for.
A man with hypnotic looks, impeccable manners, elegance that seemed almost otherworldly…
A man whose gifts were so extravagant they were almost insulting to receive.
A man whose social standing, though partially hidden, was clearly astronomical.
"This is fate," Mrs. Sean declared with tears of joy.
"We prayed for a miracle, and the heavens answered us."
"His status… it's unbelievable," Mr. Sean added proudly.
"Beyond our expectations. Beyond our imagination. Our Ivanna is truly blessed."
They were so dazzled, so profoundly relieved, that they never questioned why a man of his caliber would marry their daughter so quickly.
They didn't even ask:
"What does the 'Y' in Eugene Y stand for?"
They didn't want to ruin their luck with unnecessary questions.
Desperation had paved the path.
Ambition sealed the deal.
Ignorance allowed the union.
And thus, with smiles and open arms, and not a shred of suspicion, the Sean family welcomed him wholeheartedly:
Their mysterious, perfect son-in-law.
Little did they know…
They had invited a storm into their home.
A prince with a vendetta.
A man whose kiss could be tender.
But whose revenge would be merciless.