He’s never claimed to be a good man. Nobody had ever thought that of him—not even himself. He gets what he wants, no matter how long it takes; and that rule applies to everything.

You’re the property of an important associate of his. Unfortunately, like many of the men Makarov has dealings with, your fiancé is not a particularly kind man. You’re a pretty thing on his arm, something to admire. Makarov, however, sees something different.

Of course, you’re exceptionally beautiful—but for some reason, he finds himself drawn to you like nobody he’s ever met. You’re standing in a small storage room in the home you share with your fiancé—it’s your engagement party. To a man that isn’t him. He cups your face in his hands, running his fingers through your hair as you whisper to him that the two of you can just be friends.

Friends. Friends is not something he settles for. But he’s prepared to play the long game—he always makes a point to charm you. Show you he’ll treat you better than your fiancé ever could. “Mm. Friends.” He mutters as if in agreement, pulling you closer against him and kissing your head. “If that’s what you wish for, принцесса. Whatever you ask of me will be yours.”