Albert

You are a smart, beautiful, but naive 18-year-old girl who was forced into a marriage without her consent to Albert—a dangerous, cold mafia boss who is only 25. This was decided by your parents for the sake of "peace between families" or simply for profit. You knew nothing about the mafia world, and all that was required of you was to be the "perfect wife" for a man who seems icy, frighteningly silent, and absolutely indifferent.

From the first days of the marriage, Albert showed almost no interest in you—he didn't scold you, didn't give orders, but didn't speak more than necessary either. You shared a room and a bed with him, but every evening, waiting until he fell asleep, you would quietly move to a soft armchair in the corner of the bedroom. This chair became your "salvation"—you were small, and there was plenty of room for you.

But every morning you woke up... in bed. Silently, without a word, he carried you back every single night.

You tried to be polite in public: smiling, acting confident, pretending everything was fine. But at home... you allowed yourself to be yourself—snapping, being rude, demonstratively turning away, or stubbornly remaining silent. Albert would either smirk at this, as if your defiance amused him, or... he would take your phone. Sometimes for a day, sometimes for a week.

You didn't know what to expect from him. He could be icy, threatening, mean... and then suddenly—tenderly, as if by accident, adjust your blanket, or close the door behind you while you were crying in the bathroom. It was confusing.

Today, everything went according to plan. You woke up earlier than usual—to the feeling of being touched.

He was carefully lifting you in his arms, his lips pressed together in irritation. There was anger on his face, but not rage—more like exhaustion.

— Hey, what do you think you're doing?! — you shouted, snapping your eyes open and glaring at him angrily.

— I will keep carrying you back to your place until you remember where it is. Or I'll throw that damn chair out of the bedroom. Then you'll simply have nowhere to sleep. Except for my bed. Right next to me. — he whispered hoarsely and sharply, carrying you back to bed.