I am Lucy. Yes, *that* Lucy—the only daughter of America's wealthiest man. My father, Richard Hartford, is the king of Phoenix city. His company, Hartford Empire, is a multi-billion dollar empire spanning everything from real estate to the tech industry—anything that prints money. But tonight belongs to me, or should I say, it marks the darkest chapter of my life. Tonight is my swayamvar. Yes, a swayamvar, like those ancient royal tales, but this is no sweet fairy tale. This is a dangerous game where intelligence and power wage war. The rule is crystal clear: whoever proves to be the most intelligent and powerful will have me. And if more than one wins? Then I must become the wife of all of them. This is my father's condition. And me? I'm 21 years old, but it feels like my soul has been imprisoned for centuries.
The dazzling nights of Phoenix city. The towering skyscrapers here, the glitter of casinos, and that desert wind that turns cold as night falls. Tonight's event is being held at the city's grandest 5-star restaurant, 'Phoenix Palace'. This place is my father's property—a real palace where crystal chandeliers shimmer, walls are covered in gold plating, and the floor is marble so polished you fear your own reflection. From the outside it looks like a world of dreams, but inside? Inside, a dance of death is unfolding. Big businessmen have come from far and wide. Johnson from New York, the CEO of a high-tech company; Marcus from Los Angeles, a real estate tycoon; and that wealthy sheikh from Europe, whose name I keep forgetting. Everyone wears fake smiles on their faces, but in their eyes burns that greed that sees me as a trophy. They haven't come for me—they've come for my father's wealth. I'm just a bargain. But tonight, I will tell my own story, because this is my life, my breath.
The whirlwind of preparation started this morning. I was in my room on the Palace's top floor. The view from the window—Phoenix's lights, like thousands of stars scattered across the ground. I stared at myself in the mirror. Twenty-one years old, long black hair cascading down to my waist, blue eyes that sometimes sparkle in the darkness. My body? Perfect, the result of hours of daily gym work—curves that could intoxicate anyone. But today I wore that black gown, silk, that accentuates every curve. The neckline so deep it makes viewers hold their breath. Father says, "Lucy, show your strength." But do they know what my real strength is? I've never told anyone. There's a shadow inside me that wakes me at night. In dreams, waves of blood, and those eyes—red, hungry eyes. But today, perhaps those dreams will become reality.
Down in the Grand Hall, crowds had gathered. About 200 guests, all in expensive suits, champagne glasses in hand. Father stood on stage, gripping the microphone. "Tonight is my daughter Lucy's swayamvar. The rules are clear—a competition of intelligence and strength. Whoever wins will have Lucy. If more than one, then all of them. This is a game of death, but victory brings immortality." Applause echoed through the hall, but to me it sounded like death bells ringing. The competitions were about to begin. There were a total of 50 competitors, all big businessmen whose names shine on the Forbes list. I stood at the edge of the stage, all eyes on me. One man smiled—Alex, that playboy millionaire from New York. In his eyes was that hunger that disgusts me, but I smiled back. A game is a game, after all.
First competition: The test of intelligence. A complex puzzle prepared by my father's company. It contained AI coding, cryptography, and business strategy questions. Lines of code appeared on screen—a virtual market simulation where a stock crash had to be prevented, along with decrypting an encrypted message. Time limit: 30 minutes. I watched carefully. Johnson was sweating profusely, his fingers trembling on the keyboard. Marcus entered the wrong code, 'FAIL' flashed on his screen. But then my gaze fell on those four. They were different.
The first: Devil. His name actually is Devil—black hair, long black coat, eyes so black like night's abyss. He was solving the puzzle like it was child's play. His fingers moved so fast they became a blur. The second: William. Fair-skinned, muscular body, but his face cold as ice. He sat calmly, yet all the questions on his screen were being solved. The third: Lucas. Brown hair, sexy smile, but something hidden in his eyes. He was cleverly inserting backdoors into the code. The fourth: Henry. Slim, intelligent look, his eyes locked on the screen. These four... their age was like mine, 21-22 years, but there was something ancient about them, as if they carried centuries of experience. Round finished. Twenty remained, and those four were still standing. Alex survived too, but his face had turned pale.
Now the second competition: The battle of physical strength. An arena had been set up in the middle of the hall. First challenge—rock climbing wall, but with sharp spikes below that could kill if you fell. Height: 50 feet, no rope. I watched with bated breath. Johnson climbed up but slipped midway. The spikes tore through his leg, blood flowed. He screamed, but the rules were strict—no help allowed. Marcus tried but got exhausted. Now Devil's turn. He climbed the wall like a lizard. His movements so fast, as if gravity was his slave. Reaching the top, he looked down, his eyes gleaming. William showed his strength—climbed with one hand, as if lifting 200 kilograms. Lucas used cunning, gripping the wall's side. Henry won with calculated moves.
Now the combat round—hand-to-hand fight. Alex threw down one competitor, his punch so powerful the opponent's jaw broke. But when Devil entered, that fight became a dance of death. He sent his opponent flying with one punch, the man crashed into the wall, unconscious. William crushed with his muscles, Lucas dodged skillfully, Henry tripped his opponent strategically. Round finished. Ten remained, and those four were still unbreakable. A tremor ran through my body, like some attraction. Their eyes on me, Devil's eyes flashed red for a moment.
Night was deepening. Third competition: Survival challenge. In a dark room with traps—laser beams that could cut, poison gas that could suffocate, and mind games like hallucination-inducing lights. Time limit: 15 minutes, had to get out without injury. I watched from outside on the monitor. One competitor was cut by the laser, his hand severed, screams echoed. Alex went inside but was knocked unconscious by the gas. Now those four. Devil entered, dodging lasers as if he were air itself. William broke down doors with his strength, Lucas snuck through and escaped, Henry disabled the traps. They emerged unscathed, without a scratch. Now only five remained.
Final competition: The duel. A circular arena where both brain and body would battle. Each competitor had to fight each other while solving a riddle—a live business scenario where one wrong decision could bring death. The arena had electric fences and virtual VR helmets. First, Alex versus another. Alex threw a punch, but failed the riddle—the fence shocked him, he fell, not dead but out. Now those four against each other. But strangely—even while fighting, they seemed like a team. Devil attacked William, but it looked planned. The riddles got solved, and in the end all were equal.
Father announced: "These four have won—Devil, William, Lucas, Henry. Lucy, you must marry all four of them." Silence fell over the hall. I went on stage, close to them. Devil grabbed my waist, his fingers cold yet burning. "You're ours," he whispered, his breath on my neck. William looked into my eyes, as if stripping me naked. Lucas smiled, his hand on my thigh. Henry kissed my hand, his teeth felt sharp.