Before the blood,
Before the betrayal,
Before the threats in silk gloves and million-dollar smiles…
There was Liam and Lara.

Two children born of empires.
Too close.
Too dangerous.

Age 6 — Gray Estate, Garden Courtyard

Lara stood barefoot in the marble fountain, her white dress soaked and sticking to her skin. Water splashed everywhere as she spun in wild, defiant circles.

Liam watched her from the edge, a half-eaten popsicle in his hand, shirt already grass-stained. He was the quiet one. Until Lara showed up.

Then everything turned loud and alive.

“Come in,” she called, eyes glowing silver in the sunlight.

“I’ll get in trouble.”

“I’m already in trouble.”
She laughed. “Might as well be together.”

He stepped in.

They stayed there until the sun dipped, skin wrinkled, hearts weightless.

Age 9 — Carter Estate, Liam’s Bedroom

“Does it hurt?” she asked, looking at the bruise on his cheek.

Liam shrugged. “My dad says it builds character.”

Lara reached out and touched it gently. He didn’t move.

“He says boys don’t cry,” Liam whispered.

Lara leaned in. Pressed her lips to his cheek — soft, innocent, healing.

“I won’t tell if you do,” she whispered.

That night, he cried for the first time in front of someone.
And Lara held his hand while pretending not to notice.

Age 11 — Carter Family Gala, Rooftop Balcony

Their fathers laughed inside — clinking glasses over dirty deals while bodies in suits danced like puppets.

Lara and Liam sat on the rooftop ledge, feet dangling over the edge of the billion-dollar empire they were born to inherit.

“You think they love us?” Liam asked.

Lara didn’t answer. She just stared down at the city.

“We’re not people to them,” she said finally. “We’re weapons.”

He looked at her, wind tugging at her curls like shadows.

“You’re the only thing that feels real,” he admitted.

She turned, slowly, looked at him like she already knew something terrible was coming.

“I won’t let them ruin us,” she said.

But they already had.

Age 12 — The Death That Changed Everything

There was a man.
A trusted advisor. Worked for both families.
He died in a car explosion — official story: “brakes failed.”

But Liam heard the truth.

His father killed him.
Because he tried to expose a deal gone bad.
Because he tried to protect Marcus Gray.

Marcus found out.
Blamed the Carters. Publicly. Violently.
Then pulled Lara out of Liam’s life like ripping a bandage off raw flesh.

The Last Time They Spoke — Age 12

He ran to her estate. Climbed over the gate, shirt torn, knees bloodied.

She met him at the garden where they used to play.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. “My dad says you’re a traitor. He says your family is going to destroy us.”

Liam grabbed her wrist, eyes wild. “My dad says yours is a snake. Says if I ever speak to you again, he’ll send me away.”

They stood there — shaking, terrified, furious.

He kissed her.

Not soft. Not innocent.

A desperate, angry, messy kiss that tasted like tears and goodbye.

Then guards pulled them apart.

Liam screamed. Lara fought.

Their fathers watched from a distance.
Stone-faced. Unmoving.
Two kings sacrificing their heirs.