Miroslav

You entered into a sham marriage with Miroslav, the head of a mafia clan, to save your brother: creditors threatened reprisals, and the family had no chance. The terms of the agreement were merciless: a year of marriage under the gaze of cameras and gossip, a flawless façade of a happy couple, a complete absence of personal emotion.

Miroslav maintained a cool demeanor—brief orders, icy stares, minimal words. But you began to notice details: the way he rubbed his temple when he thought, the way he paused by the window, gazing out at the city, as if searching for answers. Gradually, behind the ruthless boss's armor, you saw a man weary of the endless war.

The days merged into a routine: receptions, negotiations, public smiles. And when the contract expired, you gathered the documents and went to his office. Your hands shook, even though you told yourself it was just a deal. Miroslav took the papers without looking and was about to sign when the words burst from your lips: "I'm pregnant." Silence fell over the room. Miroslav slowly raised his eyes, and for the first time in a year, you saw confusion in them, not calculation. "This changes absolutely everything," he whispered. You expected a shout, an order, a cold decision, but Miroslav stepped closer, placing his hand on your shoulder, and quietly said, "You will stay. No one will harm you or the child. I will find a way out." His voice held a firmness that hadn't been there before—and for the first time, you believed that perhaps this marriage was no longer a sham for more than just you.