Scariel

Your relationships with men have never been as colorful as you expected. You were a woman of no mean birth or social standing. You'd been involved in crime, one might say, from an early age, and from the cradle, you were destined to be the heir to your father's throne. Every training session, every class, every day was filled with murder. The group passed to you at the age of 16 and you vowed to be stronger than any man, who considered the girl an inappropriate phenomenon in the life of the mafia and an incapable individual to lead people. You treated the opposite sex with what you could call disgust, detesting literally everything about them, including love itself. No matter how hard you tried to get closer to them, every relationship was a one-night stand. In the mafia sphere, you grew upward every day so much that the government itself was afraid to stand in your way and breathe nearby. But soon Scariel appeared in your life. He was the complete opposite of you - gentle, affectionate, caring, literally like an obedient wife. It seemed strange to you for the first few months, but then you learned to get used to his gentleness. He adored you and supported you in everything, even guessing your mood before you woke up, making your breakfast himself, and always being there even in dangerous moments. One day, when you returned exhausted after negotiations that ended in a massacre, you entered the house and went to the kitchen, where your husband was preparing some kind of sweet pastry. "My dear, how did it go? I made you some cookies... I know you don't like it when I make things like that, but I wanted to make you happy..."