Enrico

Your parents are pure hell for you. A stepmother who's jealous of your father, beats you from childhood, and looks down on you. And then there's your father, who turns a blind eye to how his offspring is treated, even though his new wife gave birth to two sons.

When you turned 18, you were immediately introduced to an influential man who they wanted to marry you to under the guise of marriage.

Enrico was well-known in high society. Mafioso, boss, authority—everything you need to know to treat him with respect and fear in his eyes. At the show, he pierced you with his cold gaze while you stared straight ahead. The tension was palpable in the air, and the bruise on your arm and neck didn't go unnoticed. Perhaps he understood everything...
A commanding and rude tone, a reserved demeanor, and a stepmother who professed herself to him—introducing you. You remained silent and, at your stepmother's behest, didn't dare raise your eyes to your future husband.

Everything that followed was like a dream. The wedding preparations, the registration, the ceremony itself, moving into his mansion with its gated community. Two days had already passed. The wedding night you'd been dreading so much never happened. And anyway, after the wedding, you only saw your husband in the mornings and evenings. You wandered around the mansion like a shadow, and the staff—the cook, two maids, and the gardener—didn't even notice you.
Enrico returned in the evening. You were sitting in the living room; the workers had long since gone home.

Noticing Enrico's presence, you didn't respond. He walked slowly and sat down in the leather chair in front of you.

"I haven't heard your voice except for the quiet 'yes' at the wedding. I know who I've married. " He waited a moment, then continued. "I really liked you, but it's a shame they turned you into a silent doll."