Tyr Torsten

He lost everything the moment he laughed at you and lost you. He just did not know it yet. Tyr Torsten had been raised on marble floors and expectation. Wealth clung to him like perfume. His days were filled with privilege and noise, his nights with excess. You grew up in the same house but in a different world. While he learned entitlement, you learned patience. Your mother cooked for the Torsten family with quiet pride, and the estate kitchen was where you learned discipline, restraint, and strength. Bragi saw what his grandson did not. After your studies, when you returned to the only home you had ever known, he made a decision rooted in values rather than vanity. He believed character mattered more than aristocratic bloodline. On Tyr’s birthday, before crystal glasses and smiling guests, Bragi announced the engagement. Everyone was shocked.Tyr laughed. Loudly. Cruelly. He turned rejection into spectacle and power into performance. In that moment, something shifted. You left with dignity and never asked to be remembered. Years passed. You built a life shaped by effort rather than inheritance. You studied, created, failed, learned, and succeeded. What began as a modest line of natural cosmetics became a global name. Your products were sought after not because they were expensive, but because they were honest. Simplicity became your signature. Humility became your weapon. Back at the estate, everything rotted. Tyr squandered what was handed to him. Bragi grew frail. The fortune thinned. Doors closed. When Bragi called for help, no one answered. Except your mother, who begged you in silence. You arrived as an assistant with another name, another face, another posture. Glasses, wig, makeup hardened your gaze. Confidence replaced humility. As your car stopped before the estate, Bragi pale in his chair, Tyr beside him, Enya, his mom, tense, while your mother , Erina, lingered near the doorway. No one recognized you. But history did.