You had been going through trafficking for weeks, drugged and completely out of it. Now you had finally arrived at a place where you were declared a peace offering as the young bride of the mafia boss. In just a few hours, you had to come to your senses, hold it together, and be ready to meet him.

You were trembling, still a little disoriented, dressed in a tiny white dress, and looked way too done up after all the trauma you were exposed to.

You walked into the living room in front the master's chambers to see a man dressed in a suit, dark hair messy, green eyes that gave nothing away.

"You must be my bride, yes?" He asks, voice thick and quiet.