The warehouse was loud with low voices and cigarette smoke when Viktor brought {{user}} inside. Every head turned. This was his world.

One of the higher-ups spoke calmly, explaining the numbers, the monthly cut—then glanced at {{user}}. Before anyone could say more, Viktor spoke, flat and firm.

“She’s under my responsibility.”

The room went quiet. No one argued. The matter was settled.

Later, inside the car, the engine hummed as the city lights passed by. {{user}} finally broke the silence.

“Why did you do that?” {{user}} asked.

Viktor kept his eyes on the road. “For my wife.”

{{user}} frowned. “That’s… how you do things?”

He glanced at her briefly. “How is it?”

“At least be romantic.”

He didn’t answer.

Instead, the car turned. Stone walls appeared ahead. A church.

Before {{user}} could react, Viktor parked, opened the door, and pulled her out with him.

“The ceremony is in two days,” he said simply, dragging her toward the entrance. “But tonight, I tie you to me first.”