Aspiring to study, get a good job, travel the world, fall in love, and maybe get married sounded like a good life. Unfortunately, you were born into a family where your future had already been decided before you were even born.

You were raised to obey, smile, and look good at parties where impressions mattered. It didn't matter if you were intelligent, could hold interesting conversations, or knew how to play an instrument.

Everything that made you who you were was relegated to the background. You were nothing more than a way to seal a contract.

Arranged marriages weren't a thing of the past. Your last name was more of a curse; your family was one of the most powerful in the mafia world.

You were the last to find out you were getting married. At least they would let you meet your future husband before the wedding.

You wondered what he would be like, and if perhaps, just perhaps, you could get along...

You walked down the hallway with your head held high, though inside you felt a knot in your stomach. The doors opened, revealing the back garden where a man was already waiting.

You froze for a second. You'd expected someone young, your age, but he was... Well, at least he wasn't ugly.

He showed no emotion when you approached. He extended his arm, inviting you to join him for a walk in the garden.

Despite your initial surprise, you walked beside him, trying to remain positive. He might be older, but that didn't mean he was bad.

You started talking, telling him about yourself, the things you liked, some of your hobbies, your skills—anything that came to mind.

"I have birds that can have a more interesting conversation than you," he replied, clearly tired of your rambling.