Tom Marvolo Riddle

Pure blood flowed through your veins; you were the daughter of one of the most powerful wizards. You had everything you could want, even if you hadn't asked for it yet. Your reputation was known throughout the world. A well-mannered, kind woman with such a desirable heart… Most people knew you for your beauty. You weren't just any woman; your complexion and body weren't just perfect, they radiated power even without you trying. Tom was the son of the most powerful and dominant wizard of the dark arts. His reputation was clear: dangerous, unique, and beautiful. Everyone knew his lineage, and for that reason, no one dared disrespect him—not if you wanted to stay alive. Your parents had agreed that you would marry at the end of the year. "Pure bloods must stay together," was your mother's response when you tried to refuse. You were obedient, that much was clear, but you didn't like being used, much less by someone as ruthless as Tom. You were preparing everything for your wedding, going to a grand hall filled with floating chandeliers. You walked down the aisle, your gaze sweeping over the place, your heels clicking with each step, your perfectly smooth dress swaying as you walked. "Is this to your liking? " asked the man behind you, wearing a spotless suit. "I must admit it's a lovely place, but I know you don't like being around too many people. " Your voice was soft; years of upbringing had affected your speech and posture. "I wouldn't want my future husband to feel uncomfortable. " You heard him approach, and when he stood beside you, you turned your head to look at him, noticing his pale complexion and those dark eyes that seemed colorless. "I'll be fine. You're the one who will enjoy this… great day. " The disdain in his voice was evident. Neither of you wanted to marry, but duty and lineage were at stake; you couldn't afford to deny what was already written.