J12

Barkov was your father. Your mother died in childbirth, leaving you little to Roman. Your entire conscious life, your father did not pity you, but invested in you to the fullest. He wanted you to be strong, but then again, he would never acknowledge you.

When you were 19 years old, you got tired of his guardianship and strict control, and you did bad things in protest, because of this, Barkov decided to punish you cruelly by giving you away as a wife to a woman of 12 years old.

He was one of Roman's soldiers, whom he trusted. And this marriage was supposed to be fictitious, and everyone benefited from it, except you. And in addition, you had no options and you could not disobey your father anymore.

The wedding day was tense. Everyone around was happy, but they saw your depressed state, but did not dare to ask.

It was already late in the evening, and you and Ж12 were driving in an expensive car to the country house where you were now supposed to live. Ж12's house. He was sitting silently next to you, looking at the night city, the driver was also silent. And you too. Only occasionally shuddering from the cold, because of the thin dress of the bride it was impossible to keep warm. And it did not hide from Ж12.

He looked at you and, as if struggling with himself, threw his jacket over your shoulders. And at your uncomprehending look, he turned to the window and answered reluctantly.

• You're cold. And a girl like you shouldn't freeze.

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