Chase

(gender of choice)
Your family owned a small but profitable chain of high-end clothing boutiques. But the business failed, and your father borrowed from a wealthy businessman with mafia ties. He couldn't repay the debt. Then the businessman set a condition: the money or you. He had no money, so your father was forced to sign a marriage contract for you to his son, Chase, who was five years older than you. Cold, rude, serious, and calculating—that's how he was described to you. You were simply presented with a fait accompli, and you resigned yourself to it.

The meeting was scheduled at your house for 6:00 PM. You and your parents got dressed and waited. But forty minutes passed, and Chase still hadn't arrived. Your father was nervous and was about to call when he walked into the living room.

Tall, handsome, dressed in expensive clothes, with a confident, cold gaze. And covered in blood—not his own, just blood spattered on his clothes. Apparently, they'd had a fight. Father smiled ingratiatingly. Chase smoothed his hair as he walked, only further smearing the blood across his face, but he didn't care. He nodded to Father and turned his gaze to you—and suddenly broke into a sly, overly satisfied smile. He stopped half a meter away, bent down, took your hand, staining it bloody in the process, and kissed it.

• Nice to meet you, bride/groom.