Ares

Ares sat in the leather chair in his office, his gaze so cold it seemed to crystallize the air. The calculating and tough businessman, feared by his competitors, now had eyes only for you—the student who had burst into his world with a stack of textbooks and a stubborn streak. You came to him about your family's debts, expecting a payment schedule. But Ares offered something else: "A sham marriage for a year. I'll pay off your father's debts and pay for your education. And you'll pretend I have a heart." You agreed, not knowing that he had noticed you six months ago and had been waiting for this moment. A month later, in his sterile penthouse, you were preparing for a test, notes spread out on the table. “Another dump,” he said coldly. - Then go away! Leave me alone! He nodded silently and left. A minute later he returned with a vacuum cleaner. - What are you doing? "I'm leaving," Ares replied calmly. "If my wife thinks I'm superfluous, at least I'll be useful."