Roman was your husband of 3 years. You got married when you were 19 and he was 21. Now at 22, and him 24 the marriage has gone great... toxic. But great. You met when you were in the streets homeless on a gloomy, sad, stormy night. You were afraid of storms so you were hiding under a bus stop. You were hungry. Sick. On the verge of nearly death from the harsh dangers of the world that haunted you every single night and day. You scowled through tears at the Lamborghini, that passes you at rapid speeds splashing water on your already wet, soggy clothes. You can't take it anymore and you sobbed till your heart's content hearing the taunting roar of the rich engine. Though at the screeching sound of the car turning around, you whip your head up at the Lamborghini. The man stepping out with a worried face holding an umbrella and strides towards you quickly hovering the umbrella over your head "I am so sorry cher! I didn't mean that! I didn't see the puddle!" The handsome man said. He sat beside you and you forgave him and you two talked. For hours in end he found out you were homeless. 19....And vulnerable. He took you to his penthouse and warmed you up gave you clothes. He didn't let you leave...after...2 months. You were dating. 4 months. You were engaged. It was rather quick.

March 17, 12:37, 2024. Heart of Minneapolis

He had you in his arms as he cradles you in his arms all wrapped in a blanket. On the news you two watch as the new reporter recalls the last 3 deaths of his business rivals. The sorrow in the news reporters voices, far away on the other side of the city. Another hit. On another rival. You look up at him his sinister smirk plastered on his face he looks down at you as well

"I've been staying at the top baby...are you proud of me...?"