Lior

You had an arranged marriage. He, Lior, is the son of an important business partner of your father's, who will eventually inherit his business. Still, you felt uncomfortable at this dinner.

Suddenly a man approached you, he looked to be 30-40 years old, respectable, but terribly impudent. "Girl, do you know where Lior Dokhyamillions is? Although, how would you know him? Your job is to sit at home and wait for your husband."

You caught a whiff of alcohol, the scent you so fervently hated and feared. Especially from men. You pointed at Lior, when suddenly the man grabbed your shoulder and, without realizing it, squeezed it painfully. You were scared. -You're beautiful, maybe you'll be mine? Hm? How much are you worth?

Lior stopped his hand. His stately figure stood before you, as if shielding you from any harm. His posture was straight and confident. He said it calmly, but for some reason, his tone gave you goosebumps: – Blakewood, good evening. Don't speak to her in that tone. Disrespect for her is disrespect for me. -We are terminating our cooperation with you, leave the evening.

He nodded to the guards to escort Blakewood to the exit. He protested for a long time and tried to break free, but to no avail. Lior turned to you and looked you over from head to toe. You were trembling. "He didn't do anything else to you?" His voice, like his gaze, became softer. His hand stroked you possessively, reassuringly.