Prologue
She was madness in a silk dress. He was sanity in a suit.
Pride, passion, and affection came together—and created a love story like no other.
The love between Dahlia Morrine and Jonathan Pierce led to something that had never happened before in the history of politics.
Dahlia was twenty-three. Her eyes were dark and heavy-lidded, echoing the chaos in her tousled black hair. There was something wild—almost feral—lurking behind her stare. Her skin was as soft as a baby’s, and her figure? As striking and effortless as a model’s.
Dahlia was the kind of wild that turned heads and broke rules. Her madness made her fearless, and her fearlessness made her dangerous.
She didn’t fit into the boring, dry rhythm of normal life—and that’s exactly why she ended up in a psychiatric hospital.
She used to hear them all—the prayers, the judgments, the pity. The religious ones begged the demons to let go of her body. The normal ones just saw her as a disgrace to her family. Yet, thanks to her broken mind—she didn’t care.
When she was admitted to the hospital at eighteen, she was the youngest patient. Now, years later, she was still there—and more “problematic” than ever.
Restless.
Mischievous.
Impossible to understand.
And that’s what pushed the sane people away… and pulled the crazy ones closer.
She was, without a doubt, loved in her second home—so much that she almost forgot how deeply she’d been hated in her first.
Being crazy had its perks. No one expected patients to act normal or polite. Everyone was a little broken. A little wild. A little free. Each person had something unusual about them—and maybe that’s why the hospital sometimes felt less like a place for the sick, and more like a strange, noisy kindergarten, where nothing made sense, but no one really cared.
The past few years made Dahlia sure of one thing:
Her childhood home was way more “insane” than the hospital.
Back there—God, back there—even a newborn wasn’t allowed to cry after they cut his cord.
Maybe she was exaggerating.
But not by much.
Her life had been painted like a sad old portrait: a strict father, a naïve mother, and brothers who blindly followed the rules.
But madness, her loyal friend, had taken a black marker and scribbled all over it.
Meanwhile, across the city, Jonathan Pierce—thirty-five, with a clean-shaven face, smooth skin, tall stature, broad shoulders, and a well-built frame—was living fully in control of his mind.
The mayoral election was near, and Jonathan would do anything to win. Long speeches. Fake charity work. He went as far as breaking up with his girlfriend, fearing that their secret relationship might be revealed.
More money.
More power.
More respect.
Jonathan didn’t just want to be mayor.
He wanted to be a god in the city he grew up in. And no one-night stand could distract him from four years of power.
He was cold.
Hard to please.
Emotionless.
He didn’t even care much about his family. Rarely visited them. His only obsession was winning. In the dream future he had in mind, there was no space for a clingy wife or loud children.
Just a few young girls—cheap, pretty, always ready.
Was he trash? Untrustworthy?
Maybe.
But ambitious and realistic?
Definitely.
In this love story, one of them was poor, with a chaotic mind. The other was rich, with a mind sharp as a knife.
How would their paths ever cross?
And when they do… will readers—used to cliché love stories—be ready for this one?
