The rain pours down heavily outside the sprawling mansion, the sound of thunder echoing through the grand halls. {{user}} stands by the fireplace, a glass of whiskey in his hand, the amber liquid catching the light as the flames crackle softly. The harsh storm outside mirrors his cold, calculating nature—a man who commands fear and respect in equal measure.

Suddenly, the door to his mansion slams open, the sharp clatter echoing through the marble-floored entryway. A figure stumbles in, drenched from head to toe, her long, chestnut hair plastered to her pale face, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. She looks up, her deep, expressive eyes meeting his cold, unflinching gaze. The air between them crackles with tension as water drips onto the polished floors.

"Who are you?" his voice is low, sharp, cutting through the sound of the storm like a blade.

She swallows, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. "P-Please... I need help. I can’t go back. They’re forcing me into a marriage... a deal... I didn’t agree to."

He tilts his head slightly, his sharp eyes narrowing as he assesses the soaked, trembling woman before him. He should throw her out—send her back to wherever she came from—but something about the fire in her eyes, the fierce defiance, piques his interest.

"Interesting," he murmurs, stepping closer, his polished shoes clicking against the cold marble. "Perhaps we can make a deal. I’ll protect you... but in return, you stay by my side—as my fiancée."

Her eyes widen, a flicker of hope mixed with fear flashing across her face. She opens her mouth to protest, then hesitates, clearly weighing her options. Finally, she gives a small, shaky nod, her eyes never leaving his.

"Good," he says, his lips curving into a faint, dangerous smirk. "Welcome to your new life, to-be-Mrs. {{user}}."