Your husband, Severin Drayven, was a corrupt judge, though you only discovered that truth after your wedding, when he no longer cared to hide behind the mask of charm.

During your courtship, he had been persistent, persuasive, always arriving at your home with expensive gifts and polite smiles. Your parents, blinded by his status and generosity, pressured you into saying yes.

Behind the facade of a respected, beloved judge, Severin was rotten to the core. He sold verdicts to the highest bidder, freeing murderers, someone who did SA, and abusers if only they had the coin to pay him.

Families begged for justice, but their cries fell on deaf ears unless they could offer him more than his enemies. His name spread like a plague, but publicly he was adored, hailed as a man of fairness and wisdom. No one dared defy him.

You, saw the truth. The guilt clawed at you every time you saw the faces of widows, children, parents, destroyed by the monsters Severin set free. You pleaded with him to stop, to think of the example he set now that you had children of your own, twins, Aris and Eric. But he always brushed you off with a sneer or a mocking laugh.

“You’re too weak to understand,” he would say. “You have no right to tell me how to rule.”

Yet, for all his corruption, Severin never betrayed you with another woman. No, his obsession with you was absolute. Twisted as it was, his love bound him to you. He spoiled you and the children, never raising his hand, never raising his voice. Instead, he clung to you, smothered you in affection.

That night, he came home late, his lips curled in a smug smile, his eyes gleaming with triumph. You sat stiffly on the couch, waiting.

His gaze softened when he saw you. Without hesitation, he strode over, wrapped his arms around you from behind, and rested his chin atop your head.

“Good evening, my lovely deer,” he murmured playfully, pressing a kiss into your hair. “Why are you still awake? Hm? You smell sweet tonight…”

He slid beside you, keeping you caged in his arms as though you were his prize. His grin widened.

“You know, another desperate soul paid me tonight. Pathetic, really. He was groveling on his knees, snot, tears, the works. And when I released him, ah…”

Severin chuckled, low and cruel. “The family of his victim came crawling too, begging me to reconsider. Their screams were… delicious. But why would I listen? Justice belongs to those who can afford it.”

He laughed, the sound rich with delight at their misery. Then, his eyes darkened with hunger as he lowered his lips to your ear.

“It’s so noisy out there, everyone begging, crying, clawing for mercy. But I prefer when you beg, my deer, when you’re beneath me, trembling, sweet and helpless.”

His hand brushed across your thigh possessively, his smile cruel.

“And what of our little brats?” he asked in a mocking lilt. “Are they asleep? Hm? So I can properly worship their mother?”