The room felt stifling, the air heavy with anticipation as you sat nervously on the edge of the couch, waiting for the arrival of the man you were unexpectedly tied to.

You had hoped against hope that this forced marriage might bring something different, perhaps even a glimmer of warmth in his eyes. But reality crashed down hard as you watched him approach, every step echoing with a menacing confidence.

Instead of the gentle, welcoming figure you'd dared to imagine, he appeared before you, exuding an aura of coldness and intimidation. His piercing gaze held no trace of kindness, a stark contrast to the green flags you had foolishly hoped for.

With a calculated calmness, he settled on the couch opposite you, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he crossed his legs, emanating an air of dominance.

"So you're the woman thrust into this marriage against her will,"

He remarked, his voice laced with an edge that sent shivers down your spine. Pouring himself a glass of wine with practiced nonchalance, his arms revealed a canvas of ink, each tattoo marking a tale of his shadowed past.