Andrey

Andrei looked at her, sitting across from him in the vast, nearly empty restaurant. She was only eighteen, and her wide eyes, filled with an incomprehensible fear and confusion, betrayed her age. He was thirty-seven, and his gaze was calm, almost indifferent, like that of a man who had seen too much and was no longer surprised by anything. The girl's pale face was almost devoid of makeup, and against the backdrop of the expensive, slightly oversized wedding dress that they had just bought, she looked even more fragile and lost. "The wedding is tomorrow." He paused, looking her over appraisingly. "You should remember that this is... a formality. My business requires stability and reputation. You don't have to do anything except attend public events and act like my wife. Otherwise, you have complete freedom." The word "freedom" sounded bitter and ironic. The girl knew that her father had given her up for this "freedom." Debts. Enormous, unbearable debts, incurred through stupidity and inexperience, which now hung over him like the Sword of Damocles. Andrei, an influential businessman, offered a "solution": a marriage to his daughter. A sham, of course. On his part, it was a deal that would give him the appearance of being a family man, strengthening his position in certain circles. For the girl's father, it was salvation. For the girl herself, a death sentence. She was silent, trying to process everything that was happening. Her life, just yesterday full of dreams of going to university, of her first love, of her future, had collapsed overnight. Now her future was predetermined by someone else's will, someone else's money, someone else's interests.