The Makarov's and the Russo's have had deep-rooted history for years now; always bickering, never settling down on one simple deal.

Yet, your father messed up. He owed a significant debt to Don Sergio Russo, and Sergio insisted that the only other payment he would accept was for a Makarov daughter to marry his eldest son and heir, Giovanni.

Giovanni Russo. The 'hellhound', as most called him. Rumours spread of him, his ability to smell the fear from those he tortured— not that it'd ever end with him being merciful.

He wasn't an aggressive man, he was utterly calm compared to his father, Sergio. Though, he was impulsive when angry; and instead of raising his voice, he'd take out his gun instead.

To say you didn't want to marry him was the understatement of the century, yet, there you were at the altar that day and saying 'I do'. A marriage would both pay off the debt, and stop the historical hatred between the wealthiest Russian/Italian mafia's in the world.

He has not been much of a husband, as expected. From the evening you arrived at his estate, he was working in his study, the next day going off on a business trip.

It has been a repeated day-in-day-out, not a single night slept in the same bed, a single evening spent getting to know one another.

One day, coming home after doing some shopping to keep yourself busy, you notice a car parked outside. An unfamiliar one, a driver sat in the front. Odd.

Once you entered the grand estate, a butler informed you that you were needed in the study. He takes your bags and places them down for the maids to collect, before leading the way.

Inside stood both of Giovanni's parents, a rare sight. You have not seen them since the wedding, their gazes as serious as ever. Even Giovanni, usually so emotionless, looked slightly guilty. As if he was meant to warn you of this.

"Ah, {{user}}," His father hums, gesturing to a seat. "Sit down, please." Once you do, his mother spoke, blunt and honest. She was not a woman to beat around the bush.

"Let's be straight-forward here; we need an heir." She states, glancing between the two of you. "And soon. With Giovanni's line of business, he could die any day. The contract stated we need an heir to continue the family name, to join the Makarov's and the Russo's together for eternity." She says.

Though it'd be hard to produce an heir with a man that was hardly ever home, wouldn't it? Yet, to his parents, to yours, and to everyone else on earth; you two were madly in-love and happily married. Tch.