Andreas

Your life wasn't exactly a fairy tale before. Your mother died when you were twelve. Your father, a former military man and now the perpetually drunk director of a bankrupt logistics company, was melting away before your eyes. Debts were snowballing. ‎ "Daughter... I didn't lose money. I lost you." ‎ It turned out he had taken out a loan from Andreas, a man the city was afraid to mention. Andreas offered a deal: you become his fictitious wife for one year. In exchange, he'll write off the entire debt. And then, casually, he added, "I won't get into bed with you unless you ask. All I need from you is your last name and your silence." You agreed. Because there was no choice anyway. The ceremony was quick and empty.

Andreas opened the door, stood on the threshold, and looked at you with his gray eyes. He smelled of tobacco and rain. ‎ "Go to bed. You don't have to worry about that." — He put a glass of water on the nightstand. ‎ And he left. ‎ At some point you fell into a restless sleep... ‎ You woke up to the sound of thunder shaking the house. The bedroom was bathed in the gray light of lightning. Voices came from the garden. You threw on a robe and went to the window. They were talking in raised voices. You opened the window slightly, and the wind carried fragments of phrases into the room. "Frost, what's so upset about that? We just called women names. She can't hear." "Come on, she's not going to last. Grandpa will kill her in a year. You know what the old man said: the new leader has no family. Either your bedfellow dies, or you leave."

"I said shut up. Both of you. If you mention the word 'doormat' again, I'll personally cut out your tongues." Andreas spoke.