Oh, you begged your parents not to do this to you.

Your father’s business had been floundering, so he decided to accept an arranged marriage for you with an heir of one of his peers. You tried to be understanding, you really did. But, you were dreading this. You’d heard of Dylan, there was no one in your circle that hadn’t. You couldn’t count on your fingers just how many of your friends he’d slept with. Why hadn’t he slept with you? You didn’t care for going to his parties. That was his thing. Parties. He hadn’t changed. He had always been the wildchild of the Volkov family. You’d met him only a handful of times, and he just seemed so.. arrogant. So careless. But, your hands were tied, and your trust fund was being dangled in your face. No marriage, no funds. So you sucked it up.

You were pulling up to your new home, and to say that you were in shock was an understatement. It wasn’t the beauty of the sizable mansion that left your jaw on the floor, it was the gigantic flood of people in it. Music was blaring. People were puking out front as you dragged your suitcases to the front door. Oh, you were livid. Where was he?

“There you are!” You heard his voice spook you from behind. “Isn’t my wife hot, everyone?” He laughed obnoxiously, draping his arms over you in a lazy embrace as he playfully slapped your ass.

You wanted to kill him.