“I funded my fiancé Keaton's rise to power, thinking we were building a future together. But one night, I found him having sex on the hood of his car with his supposedly grieving, widowed sister-in-law. What shattered me wasn't just the betrayal, but hearing her five-year-old daughter crawl out of the backseat and call him "Daddy." When I confronted them, Keaton coldly gaslit me, calling me a jealous, hysterical Omega who was imagining things. My own mother, the powerful head of the Beaumont family, didn't care about the truth. She demanded I accept his affairs for the sake of our political alliances. "You show grace, you forgive, and you maintain the stability. That is your duty." She threatened to strip away my title and wealth entirely if I dared to break the engagement. That night, I had a terrifying, prophetic vision of the future. I saw myself chained in a dungeon, forced to drink liquid silver by a pregnant Carolyn. Keaton stood beside her as the new Regent, sneering that my own family had willingly signed my death warrant to secure their place in his regime. Until that moment, I hadn't realized I was never a beloved daughter or a cherished fiancée-I was just a political pawn waiting to be slaughtered. Waking up with the phantom burn of poison in my throat, I didn't cry. Instead, I signed the papers to freeze every single cent of my dowry he had access to. This time, I would be the one writing the death warrants.”