Anna was only nineteen when her life was turned upside down.
A modest girl from a small Ukrainian town, she never imagined her parents would sell her future to save their dying vineyard. But that’s exactly what happened. Her family’s debts were drowning them, and a single signature changed everything: she was promised to Sheikh Tariq Ibn Rashid, a man four times her age, in exchange for financial salvation.

The contract was signed. The money transferred.
And Anna — trembling, pale, and lost — boarded a plane to Marrakesh to meet her new “husband.”

At first, she tried to believe it would just be symbolic, that the old man wanted companionship, not a wife. But the silence of the lawyers and the cold, careful wording of the documents told a different story.

That night, the palace fell into an eerie quiet.
Anna sat on the edge of a golden bed, wearing a thin silk robe that barely covered her shaking body. The air was heavy with the scent of jasmine and fear.

Then the door opened.
Sheikh Tariq entered, tall and imposing despite his age. His eyes burned with hunger and authority.
“Take it off,” he said, his voice slow, deliberate — the voice of a man used to obedience.
Her hands trembled as she obeyed. She wanted to scream, to run, but her body refused to move.

And then — it happened.

The sheikh froze. His face twisted in agony. He clutched his chest, gasping for air. Anna screamed, rushing forward, but it was too late. In a matter of seconds, Tariq Ibn Rashid — one of the wealthiest men in North Africa — collapsed lifelessly on the floor.

By morning, the palace was in chaos. Servants whispered, guards shouted, and rumors spread like wildfire. Within hours, Anna was dragged away and accused of murder. Newspapers exploded with scandal: “Ukrainian bride poisons billionaire husband on wedding night!”

She spent weeks in a dark prison cell, surrounded by silence and suspicion.
Until one day, a man in a white suit appeared at her cell door. He said nothing, handed the guard an envelope, and simply whispered, “She’s free.”

No trial. No explanation. Just a passport, a plane ticket to Kyiv — and a warning to forget.

But she couldn’t forget.

When she returned home, her world was gone.
The family vineyard — sold.
Her father — dead from a heart attack.
Her mother — missing without a trace.

And then, one cold morning, an envelope appeared on her doorstep. No name. No address. Only an Arabic seal she remembered too well — the same one engraved on Tariq’s ring.

Inside, a single line:
“That night was no accident. He knew everything. And you were the key.”

From that moment, strange things began to happen.
She heard footsteps outside her house late at night. Anonymous calls came from foreign numbers. Red roses — the same kind Tariq used to send his mistresses — started appearing at her door.

One evening, she found a small velvet box waiting for her.
Inside was a gold ring with a black onyx stone — identical to the one Tariq had worn. Next to it, a USB drive.

Her hands shook as she plugged it into her laptop.
A video began to play — footage from their wedding night. A hidden camera in the corner of the room. She watched herself trembling on the bed… then Tariq, walking toward her… and suddenly, injecting something into his arm. Seconds later — he collapsed.

It wasn’t murder.
It was suicide.

But why? Why would a billionaire end his life that way — and why choose her?

Determined to uncover the truth, Anna returned to Marrakesh. In a dusty archive, she found the sheikh’s final will. Tariq Ibn Rashid had been dying of an incurable illness. His final wish: to marry a woman in need, erase her debts, and leave her his fortune.

He didn’t buy her — he freed her.

But someone else didn’t want her to know that truth.

In the palace, she met the man in the white suit again. The same cold eyes. The same calm smile.
“Tariq loved you, Anna,” he said quietly. “His death was his gift to you. But every gift… comes with a price.”

He turned and disappeared down the marble hallway, leaving her with the same haunting question echoing in her mind:
Was she ever truly free?

Anna never learned his name. But she still wears that golden ring around her neck — a reminder of the night when love, death, and destiny collided behind the golden doors of a Moroccan palace.