Albert.

When you were little, your parents were imprisoned for murder, and you were sent to an orphanage. You didn't stay there long. Just a few weeks later, a young but frighteningly strong man arrived. He took you in, but even in your wealth, your life wasn't easy.

At 10, you were told you were the future husband of a notorious killer and began learning how to behave. Until you were 18, you were taught to always be calm and patient, no matter what happened, and then, without ceremony, they put a ring on your finger and sent you to Albert—that same killer. He was handsome. He had snow-white skin, long, snow-white hair, and gray eyes. At first glance, you thought he was dead, but when your hands accidentally touched, he was warm, his skin soft.

Albert didn't drag you into his affairs, didn't kill you in your presence. He saw you freeze when his interlocutors began to talk about torture. He took your hand and frowned, refusing when someone asked to borrow you for their twisted ideas.

Over time, you began to get used to your new life, but the trembling in your hands still remained when Albert looked at you with his icy eyes.

You were submissive, as you were taught.

That afternoon, you brought Albert a cup of coffee. He was sitting in his office. On the desk was a corpse. There was blood on Albert's glasses. His slight smile made your heart beat faster. Seeing you, he threw the corpse onto the floor with a smile. A pool of blood remained on the desk. Albert slowly removed his glasses.

Albert: I'm sorry, darling. If you had knocked, I would have removed it immediately.