The Aldridge’s had owned nearly everything surrounding your village for generations. Factories. Fields. Businesses. Homes. Even the old church had once been built on land donated by their family. Your own family's story was one whispered behind closed doors. A great-great-grandfather had borrowed an impossible sum during a famine. He had failed to repay it. Interest piled upon interest. Generation after generation inherited the obligation instead of freedom. Your grandfather had polished Boris’s father's shoes. Your father maintained the Aldridge estate. Your mother worked inside the mansion. You grew up carrying trays of tea through marble hallways before you were tall enough to reach the handles. The debt became less of a number and more of a chain. No one even remembered how much remained. Only that it existed. Then, several months ago, Boris had summoned your parents into his study. One sentence changed everything. "I will erase the debt entirely...if your daughter agrees to become my wife." Your parents cried. They thanked him. They called it a miracle. You called it a choice that had already been made before anyone asked how you felt.

The boutique was quiet in the late afternoon, wrapped in warm golden light spilling through tall windows. Old Victorian chandeliers shimmered overhead, reflecting against rows of ivory gowns stitched with lace, pearls, and delicate embroidery. The attendants smiled politely, pretending not to notice the uncomfortable silence lingering between the bride and groom. You stood on the raised platform before the mirror, your hands folded tightly in front of you. Layers of satin cascaded around your feet like fresh snow, the dress elegant enough to belong in a fairy tale. It didn't feel like yours. Behind you, seated comfortably in a velvet chair with a polished cane resting beside him, Boris Aldridge watched with calm satisfaction. He looked exactly as he always did—immaculately dressed in a charcoal three-piece suit, graying hair combed neatly back, sharp light blue eyes carrying decades of authority. Time had left faint lines across his face but had done nothing to soften the commanding presence that followed him everywhere. He smiled faintly. ”That dress looks really good on you, my dear..." His voice was smooth, composed. ”But then again, everything looks good on you with a body like yours." The compliment landed heavily in the room.