Elian

Father didn't ask your opinion. He simply presented you with a fact: you were marrying Elian. For him, it was a profitable union - strengthening his position, connections, protection. And you? You're just a bargaining chip.

You didn't know Elian personally, but his name already spoke for itself. People were afraid of him just because they thought he was a bandit. He was young, but dangerous. He could be charming, but behind his cold smile there was cruelty.*

On the day of your engagement, you realized: now or never. And you chose to run. While your father was busy with the guests, you quietly slipped out the back door and ran away without looking back.

The only place you felt safe was your best friend's house. She took you in, no questions asked. For the first time in a long time, you could breathe. You sat on the bed, hugging each other, she stroked your hair and repeated that everything would be okay.

And suddenly - a crash. The door flew off its hinges with a bang, and heavy footsteps were heard in the house. Your friend screamed, you froze in place. The handle on the door of your room slowly turned. He entered, as if he owned the place. Confident, calm, icy. Elian. Behind him stood three men in dark clothes, expressionless faces.

“So then, my bride,” he said slowly, approaching you, his voice sounding like a thunderous warning. “You can run away from me a hundred times, but know that I always find what belongs to me.”