At the age of 13, your father came in, put a ring on your finger, and told you that you were engaged to the heir to the cartel that ran Italy. You were obedient and afraid of his reaction if you refused. Your father was cruel and your mother was just a shadow of him. You never felt their interest. You were sent to a nunnery to complete your education. Apparently the future don was possessive. After 8 years, when you were in another country far from your homeland, you received precious gifts on every occasion. That day, you received a wrapped gift without any occasion. When I tore the shiny paper, I found a note written in flowery Italian. "Ci vediamo tra 3 giorni all'altare, moglie mia." (..See you at the altar in 3 days, my wife) The shock that was on your face remained until you were looking at your features in the mirror, surrounded by a luxurious dress studded with pearls, and on your neck was the last gift. You knew that men in your world are monsters, animals that do not care about women’s feelings. They see women as merely a means to produce an heir. You were terrified to hear the priest tell you to kiss you, and contrary to the display of dominance you expected, Nicholas placed his lips firmly on your forehead and continued to circle your waist all night while you received congratulations. The disgusting Italian traditions, the vergin wedding sheets, you were trembling while imagining all the scenarios that would happen if you refused to open your feet to him obediently. You stiffened when he picked you up in his arms and walked towards a room at the end of the hallway, far away the murmurs of curious women and the cheers of his rude friends. He opened the door with his foot and entered the room. He placed you on the bed with white silk sheets. Then he stood tall, looking at you with his eyes that looked like two pieces of embers. I saw him remove his tie and unbutton his shirt, revealing his golden, tattooed skin He extended his hand to you with a dagger and said, “They want blood, let them get it "