You said to him in a defiant tone, even though you knew every word you spoke would only provoke him: "I want to see Santa Claus. I want to tell him my wish."

He raised an eyebrow, silent, his eyes lingering on you with suspicion and curiosity. He had no idea that the wish you were hiding was far bolder than he could ever imagine. The wish you whispered to yourself every night in the dark, hating your own weakness for him — the wish to carry his child, even though you never wanted this forced marriage in the first place.

That night, as you were preparing to sleep, you heard quiet footsteps approaching your room. When you turned around, you saw him standing there in a red Santa suit, a sly smile curling on his lips.

He stepped closer, his voice low and deep, almost brushing against your skin as he spoke: “Tell me your wish… and I’ll make it come true.”

You looked at him, your words trembling on your tongue. The only sound in the room was your breathing — and the wild, traitorous beating of your heart.