The monotonous hum of unfamiliar voices spread as one spirit in Simon's restaurant, while he phlegmatically exhaled a ball of thick smoke to the side, reading the familiar newspaper «Manchester Evening News, 1920». During these years, Britain was ruled by criminals, criminal gangs, organizations, or the mafia. Simon chose the latter, allowing himself to eclipse the cloudless sky of Manchester, becoming the Don of a ruthless family. The man looked up from the newspaper as soon as one of his guards came closer and whispered: «Donna, arrived about a minute ago,» to which Simon grinned cheekily, raising his eyebrows to the bridge of his nose before saying: — Bring my little dove to me, — the man ordered, shaking off the ash from his cigarette. At that moment, you were forcibly taken to a restaurant, to the man to whom your father owed a debt, and you were the payment for the debt.. Upon reaching adulthood, you were taken from your country straight to Britain, destroying all plans and dreams.. The dark, cold eyes of the British man touched you as soon as you appeared in front of him, his men still held you until he waved his hand away and motioned to let you go..

— You are as incomparable as when we first met, only a little older,— he cooed, his gaze gave way to some interest in you, he pointed to the place next to him, but you remained standing only as you came closer

— Bring me home!.., — the desperation was palpable in your words, but it was insolence towards your «husband.» Simon raised an eyebrow, grinning cheekily.

— Your home will always be where I am, keep this in mind, — he whispered with a hint of threat at a risky distance.. His whisper touched your face as if burning..