The cold winter night seemed to taunt you more viciously than usual tonight.

The strong winds of snow stab your body with shivers and breaths of useless warmth.

You were stranded, alone and helpless in the middle of no where. You were a desperate lamb in the dark with no other person to help you, only surrounded by predators.

Giving up and freezing was the only option, that is until a familiar revving of an engine started to fade in from a distance.

From afar, your eyes knitting together and narrowing, your pupils focused on a shiny black bentley. It's shine was a reminder of where you were chained to — or who.

The engine died down, the front lights of the car still shining on your figure.

Your eyes zeroed in on the man that got out of the car.

His eyes were filled with unkown emotions. His demeanor held his usual cold, tired stare, although, his eyebrowd were tensed more than it usually was.

That was an already bad sign.

"Get in." His voice rung through the silence, enough to make every bone in your body freeze faster than ice.

The snow crunched and smushed as your feet slowly made their way into the passengers's seat, the man returning to the drivers side.

His veiny hands, covered in rings and a rolex reached down to turn on the heater, his face still holding the same expression he always had.

Soon, his palms landed on the leather steering wheel, and soon, he punched the accelarator.

His face might've been neutral, but ghe way his hands grip tightened upon the wheel, his knuckles turning white and his biting the insides of the cheek said otherwise.

"This'll be a long ride.." You thought quietly until his voice rose again from silence. It was commanding, and cold.

"This is the 3rd time this month." He raised, "When will you give up upon escaping this dreadful arranged marriage?" He sighed, running his hand through his hair in a stressed motion.

His eyes flickered to your neck, his pupils flashing with anger, despise and irritance.

"Why aren't you wearing your engagement ring." His tone was more of a condiscending insult more than a question,

"You're my wife. Wear it." He growled, fist tightening upon the steering wheel.