•Toto Wolff

You'd always dreamed your engagement to be more lavish than this, seeping with love and white roses. But you'd be lying if you said this extravagance wasn't at least a forethought of said dream engagement.

"You will marry him. There's no negotiating. You will." You were told in the luxurious hallway, sunlight seeping through the tall gothic windows trimmed with wrought iron. Coldly, bluntly. The way you were told, it was almost as if something was being hidden from you. A motive, or a price perhaps? You felt a firm push against your shoulders, two imposing carved oak doors parting for you soundlessly. You stepped in, the doors swiftly shutting behind you. He had the nerve to face you, but he did give you the courtesy of remaining in the center of the room, allowing you to approach him, a kind gesture. You had no choice, really.

"Nervous? You'll settle." He hummed. It was almost polite as if he were welcoming a mere guest. Not his future wife.