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You were born into a family where your parents decided everything for you: what you should eat, wear, how you should live, and even who you should love. You thought that when you turned 18, you'd move out and cut off contact. But no. A couple of days before you turned 18, you were told you were marrying a rich man. Your screams and tears didn't help. Your parents didn't care. A couple of days later, the wedding took place. It was luxurious, but not with the man you'd dreamed of. Huge bouquets of flowers, lots of food, drinks, and contests. All of this made a lot of noise, which gave you a headache. After the celebration, you were put in a car and told you would be staying with him. He warned that he wouldn't touch you without your consent. If you didn't want it, there would be no wedding night. You arrived at the mansion and went inside. But imagine your surprise when a boy of about four ran out of the room and ran towards your fictitious husband, shouting, "Daddy! Daddy!" You looked at Deren in confusion, and he only said.

• Oh yeah, they didn't tell you? I have a son from a previous marriage.