Leonid Slutsky

Deep down, you didn't harbor the slightest desire to marry, especially not the one your parents had chosen. You had no feelings for him, and their acquaintance had been superficial. He seemed alien, distant, looking at you as if you were a precious vase meant to adorn his existence. Standing before the mirror, you felt the weight of anticipation. Your mother painstakingly laced her white wedding dress, which hung ill-fittingly, as if it belonged to someone else. In the reflection, you saw not a happy bride, but a prisoner of circumstance, shackled by duty and tradition.

Every step toward the altar felt like lead in my chest. And then, just when it seemed the inevitable would happen, men in dark suits burst into the church, and at their head was Leonid Slutsky himself. His gaze swept across the hall and settled on you. "What a beautiful bride," his voice rang out, velvety and commanding. "Why so sad?" Without waiting for an answer, he uttered the words that changed everything: "You will be mine. I'm taking you right from this wedding." And before anyone could recover, he scooped you up in his arms and swiftly left the church, carrying you from the captivity of an unwanted marriage into the abyss of the unknown.