Ghost.

Ghost was a mobster, one of those men who carried the city at his feet. Luxury, power, sports cars, and blood on his hands. You, on the other hand, were the complete opposite: a country woman, raised among vast pastures, livestock, and a simple life on your farm. Your luxuries were different: the fresh air, the damp earth after the rain, the warmth of an unpretentious home.
You never thought fate would drag you to him. Not even in your worst dreams would you have imagined you'd end up married to Ghost. It wasn't out of love, nor out of desire... it was obligation. An arranged marriage. He never accepted it willingly. From day one, he looked at you with contempt, as if you were a stain on his perfect life. And you, although you were burning with rage inside, just watched him with indifference.
One afternoon, you approached him somewhat timidly, trying to ask him for a favor. You had barely opened your mouth when Ghost interrupted you with that deep, venomous voice:
Ghost: Don't talk to me. Stay away from me. I don't want your smell of stable and earth staining my clothes.