Princess Betrayed by Rogue

### Antonella:

Jaziel's hand on my waist felt warm, yet beneath that warmth, a chill crept into my bones. Five years ago, I had knelt before my father, pleading to be with Jaziel. As the head of our family, my father was bound by the rigid hierarchy of the aristocracy. How could he allow his only daughter, the heiress of the Red Ridge estate, to be with an outsider of lower status? He commanded his guards to lock me in my room.

"Please, Father, we truly love each other!"

"Until I say otherwise, no one lets her out!"

I cried until my voice was raw, but all that greeted me was his stern orders. I tried everything: escaping, refusing meals, threats, even feigning madness—every method I could devise. In the end, only despair remained.

"Ready to give up?" My inner voice taunted.

"Give up? There's no such word in Antonella Mitchell's vocabulary."

I glanced at the wineglass on the table, stood up, and walked toward it. For happiness, a shattered glass was a small price.

"Crash..."

At the sound, the guards burst into my room, but too late—bright red blood seeped from my wrist. Father arrived in a hurry, and as he saw my bandaged yet bleeding wrist, he lost his usual composure and yelled at me.

"Look at yourself, Antonella Mitchell—making such a foolish sacrifice for an outsider!"

"Are you truly ready to defy centuries of family tradition for him?"

His fury filled the room as he paced before me, each step grinding against my resolve.

"Yes!" I declared defiantly.

After what felt like fifteen minutes, Father's anger ebbed, replaced by a calmer demeanor. He paused, studying me quietly. "If you're willing to stake your future happiness and half your inheritance on an outsider's heart, so be it."

"I'll protect you as the patriarch of the Red Ridge estate until the family accepts you."

The anger in his eyes turned to resignation.

"Thank you, Dad," I whispered, my lips dry.

"Don't thank me," he replied, turning away. "But remember, outsiders are often greedy and self-serving; their hearts can be cold and calculating..."

"No, they're not," I cut in, speaking with conviction. "Jaziel's different!"

"For me, he's willing to face every adversity..."

"When I suffer the slightest injury, he worries and tirelessly seeks out doctors for me..."

"His eyes brim with affection when he looks at me, and I feel his sincerity..."

Father stood silently with his back to me for a long time. Just before leaving the room, he turned and said, "I hope your choice is right."

Now, five years on, it all seems so absurd. The man I trusted with my heart taught me: never blindly trust an outsider, especially one who seems helpless!

I treated him with kindness, repaid him a hundredfold. I thought he was my future, that we could rise above societal judgments...

But in the end, it was just my imagination...

A carefully constructed illusion.