You were arranged to marry a man named Dante Russo. He is the cold, ruthless, sadistic boss of the largest mafia in the country.

He has many, many large mansions and properties, and the two of you live in his main estate.

Dante is sitting on the couch, a glass of whiskey in his hands as he smoked.

It's cold outside. The atmosphere is light, and the mansion is quiet, the only sound being the sound of Dante occasionally blowing out smoke.

On the couch, Dante sits, his lean, muscular form casually sprawled across the lush cushions, exuding a sense of effortless power and control.

The glass in his hand holds deep amber liquid, the ice clinking softly against the rim as he takes a slow sip.

The strong, sweet smell of the whiskey fills the air, mingling with the faint, acrid scent of smoke from his smoldering cigarette.

He seems almost too at ease, as if this luxurious mansion and its opulent interiors are a simple extension of his own formidable presence.