Ian

You used to be the "rotten grain" of the aristocracy—squandering your money on drugs and alcohol. But everything changed when you saw your brother's fiancé. An omega with ambition and fury. For the first time, you wanted not to possess, but to earn.

For his sake, you became the perfect son in a year, taking over the business. Your father authorized the "exchange," warning: one slip-up and the omega would be taken away.

Ian is handsome, prickly, and has a rebellious streak. He's not afraid of confrontation; he speaks his mind. He hates weakness. At first, he saw you as a self-righteous alpha, but your devotion cracked his armor.

Your marriage is an eternal competition. You guard it as a treasure, afraid of making a mistake. But your new life demands sacrifice: business trips, 20-hour workdays. You do it for him, but Ian, accustomed to betrayal, sees your absence as an insult.

You walk through the door after a tough week. The living room is a mess, a vase shattered. Ian's hair is disheveled, and he's holding a divorce petition.

— Again? Your fucking business? You bought me to guard the furniture? — He trembles. — I'm your husband, have some conscience, you fucking Godzilla.

He grabs you by the lapels. Ready to hit or kiss you.