Four years passed, but some things never changed. In the lecture halls of their prestigious university, Ethan and Hazel still managed to claim the back-row seats. But the stakes were no longer about calculus formulas or high school track stars. The real world had caught up to them, and the shadows around Ethan had only grown longer. To the public, Ethan was the flawless heir to his family’s logistics empire. He was sharper now, his feline features hardened into striking, aristocratic lines. He wore tailored coats and carried himself with a quiet, lethal efficiency that drew eyes wherever he walked. Yet, his heart remained entirely locked away. His private life was a ghost town; he frequented quiet, underground bars in the city, catching fleeting glimpses of a life he truly wanted—a life where he could love a man openly—before pulling his collar up and retreating back into the dark. Meanwhile, Hazel remained his absolute tether to humanity. She had grown into a beautiful young woman, her clumsy energy maturing into a bright, infectious charm that made people naturally gravitate toward her. But her loyalty to Ethan had never wavered. She was still his puppy—fiercely protective, entirely innocent of the corporate malice surrounding them, and always ready to soothe his frayed nerves with a homemade meal. But the cage was finally closing in. --- The storm broke on a rainy Thursday evening during their senior year of college. Ethan’s father had called an emergency dinner at an upscale, suffocatingly quiet restaurant in the city. Ethan sat across from his parents, his posture rigid. The air was thick with the scent of expensive truffles and burning incense. "We’ve tolerated your delays during your university years, Ethan," his father said, not even looking up as he sliced his steak. "But graduation is next month. Director Kang’s daughter has just returned from her studies in London. The merger between our firms depends on this union. The engagement will be announced at the graduation gala." Ethan’s grip on his wine glass tightened until his knuckles turned entirely white. "I have no intention of marrying Miss Kang. I’ve told you before, I want to focus entirely on managing the domestic sectors first." "This isn't a negotiation," his mother interjected, her voice smooth as silk and cold as ice. "You are the face of this family. If you do not settle down and provide a stable, traditional image for the board, your father will review the succession line. Your cousin is more than willing to step up. Do not let your stubbornness ruin everything we’ve built for you." They were threatening to strip away everything he had worked for—not just his inheritance, but the financial independence he desperately needed to one day escape their control. They wanted to force him into a bed with a stranger, to live a profound, agonizing lie. When Ethan left the restaurant, the rain was pouring in sheets. He didn't call a driver. Instead, he walked blindly through the downpour, his mind racing, suffocating under the weight of the looming gala. Without thinking, his feet took him to the one place where he could actually breathe. --- Hazel’s small apartment was warm and smelled faintly of vanilla and toasted bread. When she opened the door and saw Ethan standing there, drenched from head to toe, his dark hair plastered to his forehead and his cat-like eyes wide with a rare, raw vulnerability, her heart dropped. "Ethan!" she gasped, immediately pulling him inside, throwing her favorite fluffy towel over his shoulders. "What happened? You’re freezing!" Ethan didn't speak. He allowed her to guide him to the sofa. He sat down, his shoulders trembling slightly—not from the cold, but from the sheer, suffocating panic that had been building inside him for years. Hazel knelt in front of him, using the towel to gently dry his hair, her round eyes filled with deep, aching worry. "Was it your parents again? Did they try to push another date on you?" "They're forcing an engagement next month," Ethan whispered, his voice cracking, stripping away the aloof prince persona entirely. He reached out, his cold hands catching Hazel’s wrists, stopping her movements. He looked down at her, his eyes desperate. "If I refuse, they’ll ruin me. They’ll take the company. They’ll monitor my every move until I break. Hazel... I can't touch a woman like that. I can't pretend to love someone in a bedroom when it makes my skin crawl. I feel like I'm going to die." Hazel’s heart squeezed painfully. She hated his parents. She hated how they treated her best friend like a chess piece. She leaned forward, placing her warm hands over his cold fingers. "Then don't do it," she said fiercely. "We'll find a way. You're brilliant, Ethan. You don't need their company—" "I do," he interrupted softly, a dark, realistic shadow crossing his face. "If I lose the company, I lose my freedom. They have the power to blacklist me from every major firm in the country. I’ll be entirely at their mercy." Silence fell over the room, punctuated only by the heavy patter of rain against the windowpane. Ethan stared at their joined hands. The desperate, wild idea that had been forming in his mind for the past four years finally pushed its way to the surface. It was crazy. It was selfish. But she was the only person in the world he trusted. "Hazel," he murmured, his gaze lifting to meet hers. "Marry me." Hazel froze, her eyes widening. "What?" "A Lavender Marriage," Ethan explained quickly, his words rushing out as he leaned closer, his feline eyes burning with a strange, intense light. "A fake marriage to protect us both. If we get married, my parents will stop prying into my private life. They’ll leave me alone, thinking I’ve settled down with a respectable, safe choice—since they already know you and trust your background. I’ll give you everything, Hazel. A beautiful apartment, financial absolute freedom, anything you want. You won't have to worry about a single thing." Hazel blinked, her innocent mind trying to process the sheer scale of what he was asking. "But... Ethan, what about your real soulmate? What if you find the guy you’re meant to be with?" "If I find him, or if you find someone you truly love, we can quietly divorce in a few years once I’ve secured my position as CEO," Ethan said, his grip on her hands tightening slightly. His voice softened, becoming incredibly protective, almost possessive in its worry. "And honestly... I don't trust any other guy to be around you right now anyway. You're too innocent. If you stay by my side, I can protect you from people who want to use you. We can live together, just like roommates. Just like seatmates. Please, Hazel. Help me breathe." Looking at his beautiful, tortured face, Hazel knew she could never say no to him. He was her best friend. He was her protector. If he needed her to be his shield, she would gladly stand in front of the arrows. She offered him a soft, reassuring, puppy-like smile. "Okay. Let's do it. Let's get married, Ethan." --- Two months later, the deal was finalized. To the high-society world, it was a sweeping, romantic tale of childhood sweethearts tying the knot right after graduation. Ethan’s parents were ecstatic, completely fooled by the arrangement. They moved into a sprawling, luxurious penthouse in the city center, paid for entirely by Ethan. It was designed with a beautiful, minimalist aesthetic, featuring two distinct master bedrooms separated by a large, sunlit living area. Living together brought a strange, intoxicating new dynamic to their slow-burn bond. Ethan was fiercely attentive. Even though they didn't share a bed, he took his role as her "husband" incredibly seriously. He would wake up early to make sure her favorite coffee was brewed. He personally curated her wardrobe, buying her elegant dresses that made her look stunning while ensuring they weren't too revealing. On Friday nights, they had a routine. Ethan would mix a drink for himself, while Hazel would make hot cocoa. They would sit on the large plush rug in the living room, leaning against the sofa, watching old movies. "You're showing too much collarbone in that shirt," Ethan remarked one evening, his cat-like eyes narrowing as Hazel stretched on the rug, her oversized sweater slipping off one shoulder. "Oh, come on, Ethan, we're at home!" Hazel laughed, pulling the fabric back up. "And besides, you're gay. Why do you care?" Ethan’s gaze lingered on her bare shoulder for a second longer than necessary before he took a slow sip of his drink. A strange, unidentifiable weight pressed on his chest. "Just because I'm not attracted to women doesn't mean other men won't look. You lack a sense of boundaries, Hazel. It makes me anxious." "You worry too much," she chuckled, resting her head against his knee. Ethan’s hand naturally found its way into her soft hair, gently stroking the strands in a slow, rhythmic motion that felt deeply intimate, yet entirely unspoken. They were perfectly content in their carefully constructed bubble. Until the university alumni gala arrived the following week. It was the first public event where they had to appear as a married couple, and it was the night the first cracks in their perfect arrangement began to show.

The Golden Cage and the Blueprint