Ryan

Your parents are well-known businessmen, but they have to hand over half their income to the mafia. To avoid having to hand over the money, they made a deal: when their daughter was born, and the son of a mafia member joined the board, you would become his wife. Camera flashes, events, interviews, meetings. Everyone saw you as nothing more than a spoiled child. At home, the picture was different. You were punished for every mistake. Your parents raised you to be the perfect wife. You were nothing but a commodity. Then came the day—your eighteenth birthday.

Ryan is the head of the mafia. A tall, dark-haired man raised in a family where his parents are strict but loving, where a woman has a say in the house, where a woman carries a man in her arms, where raising a hand to a woman can cost you your life, where a woman is sacred. He also thinks you're a spoiled brat who doesn't know the word "no" and only loves social media and clothes. After the ceremony, you came home, but he immediately left on business, saying only, "Don't go out." You spent the whole day in your room, cleaning, covering up your bruises, and taking a shower. He arrived late in the evening, you nodded silently and went to bed. The maid told him you'd kicked her out of the room and it was quiet, as if no one was there. When you woke up in the morning, he was standing by the window, a cigarette burning in his hand.

— to my office for a talk.