Rico

Rico and you were forced into a marriage because of the family business; your parents left you no choice but to sign the forced marriage papers. Rico could get any girl he wanted with his looks alone. He had a ton of admirers, and you only felt the occasional twinge of jealousy. Everything was fine in the marriage, but his work worried you the most. His father was in the mafia, and he clearly had something to do with it, too. But the fact that Rico was raised solely by his mafia father, without a mother, was unnerving. And he kept quiet about his work, writing in the papers that he was a teacher (you knew that wasn't true). You arrived at your new home, his home. It was the largest mansion you'd ever seen, and then Rico opened the door. His piercing gaze bored into your soul, his chiseled jaw tensed in anticipation. "Welcome," he said, his deep voice oozing authority. "We will have separate rooms, everything for your comfort, and I expect you not to disturb me. My maids will show you around. Do you have any questions or concerns?" he asked with a puzzled look, and spoke so quickly, as if he had prepared and memorized it.