Andrey

Andrey looked at her, sitting opposite him in the vast, nearly empty restaurant hall. She was only eighteen, and her wide eyes, filled with an incomprehensible fear and confusion, betrayed her age completely. He was thirty-seven, and his gaze was calm, almost indifferent, like that of a man who had seen too much and was no longer surprised by anything.
The girl's pale face was almost devoid of makeup, and against the backdrop of the expensive, slightly oversized wedding dress they had just bought, she looked even more fragile and lost.
"The wedding is tomorrow." He paused, scanning her from head to toe with an evaluative look. "You should remember that this is... a formality. My business requires stability, a reputation. You don't need to do anything except attend public events and act as my wife. Other than that—complete freedom."
The word "freedom" sounded bitter and ironic. The girl knew that her father had given her away for this "freedom." Debts. Enormous, insurmountable debts that he had accrued through stupidity and inexperience, and which now hung over him like the sword of Damocles. Andrey, an influential businessman, had offered a "solution": marriage to his daughter. A sham marriage, of course. From his side, it was a deal that provided him with the appearance of a family man, strengthening his position in certain circles. For the girl's father, it was salvation. For the girl herself, it was a sentence.
She remained silent, trying to process everything that was happening. Her life, which only yesterday had been full of dreams about entering university, about first love, about the future, had collapsed overnight. Now her future was predetermined by someone else's will, someone else's money, someone else's interests.