The Billionaire Captive Bride

　　"Get lost, you thief! Must you work here? If your family can't survive starvation, just die. Nobody cares!"

　　The old woman kept yelling and chasing Ophelia away. She just glanced at the woman walking off, muttering angrily under her breath.

　　She worked at different places and was barely paid. Some people even accused her of stealing just to avoid paying her or they found the tiniest fault to dismiss her.

　　As she walked down the street, her mind spun with thoughts.

　　Should I start stealing? she questioned herself, bitterness rising in her chest. I work my ass off every day and still get cheated.

　　But no matter how tempting the thought, stealing wasn't her thing. She shook the idea from her head and started walking home.

　　"There must be leftover food to eat for today," she murmured to herself, a small bounce in her step as she clung to hope.

　　Suddenly, she noticed a man getting into a car.

　　"Wow... Is he an angel sent from heaven?" she thought, stunned by his appearance.

　　She stared at the car.

　　"This is huge, if I must say. I've only seen that kind in movies," she whispered in awe.

　　She stood there, admiring him as he drove off, daydreaming. "He must be rich."

　　Just as she was about to turn and walk away, something caught her eye a wallet lying on the ground.

　　She rushed over and picked it up. Slowly opening it, her eyes widened at the sight of crisp dollar bills, a sleek black card, and a strange ticking device embedded in one of the compartments.

　　After struggling to remove the device, she gave up. It probably won't be a problem, she thought. I'll just take the money out when I get home and toss the wallet.

　　"This would be enough for our family to survive for a week," she said to herself. But another voice in her mind urged her to return it.

　　She looked around, trying to find the owner—but no one was in sight.

　　With hesitant hands, she slipped the wallet into her bag and walked away.

　　Ophelia's mother was sick and starving. Her father, a drunkard and a gambling addict, had died after being brutally beaten over a debt he couldn't repay. His legs were amputated, and he eventually died from the pain.

　　When Ophelia got home, she found her younger sister, Milana, crying in the living room.

　　"Why are you sobbing? Is it because of food?" she asked, rushing to her side. "I have some money now. Don't worry we can cook something delicious."

　　Milana shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks.

　　"Mama is gone. She didn't open her eyes. She's not breathing. Mama is gone... like Daddy," she whispered.

　　"What nonsense are you saying?" Ophelia shouted and bolted to their mother's room only to find her lying still, cold.

　　"Mom! I brought money... Mommy, please wake up!" she cried out, collapsing beside the bed.

　　Memories of her father's death on that very bed came flooding back. Even though he had hated and maltreated her, she had still loved him deep down. He used to be a loving father until gambling consumed him.

　　Ophelia was a graduate, and a gifted singer with a voice that once captured hearts. But everything changed when she was expelled from her music label over false accusations of plagiarism. No agency was willing to take her in. Despite countless interviews, she was never chosen again.

　　Since her mother's illness began, Ophelia worked any job she could find just to support them. She had even stopped Milana from going to school to save on expenses.

　　Now, her mother was gone too.

　　"Perhaps I was cursed," she thought, sitting helplessly on the floor, staring at her mother's lifeless body through tears.

　　Meanwhile, Rome drove at full speed toward the mansion, fury burning in his chest.

　　His mother had set him up on a blind date with a friend's daughter, and it turned out to be a disaster. The girl had been arrogant and bold enough to demand half of his inheritance before any talk of engagement.

　　He parked and dialed his mother.

　　"Hey, Rome! How was the girl?" she asked excitedly.

　　Rome sighed and forced himself to calm down. "Mom, she's a gold digger. I don't even think her background is real. All she wants is my money."

　　He paused. "Don't set me up on another date. Do whatever you want with the company—I don't care. When the time is right, I'll get married. On my terms." With that, he hung up.

　　He stepped out of the car, with his right-hand man, Adrian, following behind.

　　"Do you have any other plans?" Adrian asked, his tone laced with concern.

　　"I'll return everything to my grandfather and live a peaceful life. Marriage isn't a necessity," Rome muttered, brushing past him.

　　He slumped onto the sofa, closing his eyes in frustration only to hear Adrian's voice again.

　　"Where's your wallet?" Adrian asked, hesitantly.

　　Rome groaned. "What does my wallet have to do with anything?"

　　"Your father asked me to insert a GPS tracker in it... to keep tabs on you," Adrian confessed. "If you want to be free from their control, we have to remove it."

　　"It must be in the car," Rome said, waving him off.

　　Adrian rushed out and returned moments later. "It's gone."

　　Rome's eyes snapped open. "What?"

　　"It's not in the car. It's gone."

　　"Then that's even better. Now they can't find me," he said, trying to go back to sleep.

　　"But... your black card was in that wallet. It has access to all your liquid cash. Are you sure it wasn't stolen?"

　　Rome shot up. "You said there's a GPS tracker, right? Then find it."

　　His eyes darkened. "I'm sure that crazy girl stole it. Bring her to me, alive or dead."

　　"Yes, sir," Adrian said, nodding firmly before leaving.

　　Rome leaned back, a sinister grin playing on his lips.

　　"She chose the wrong man to mess with. I'll show her what it means to cross Rome Sinclair."