The first time he saw you was during a trip; he accidentally ended up on an economy flight instead of first class—it was the first and last time he would hire a man as his secretary—so he sat two rows in front of you and couldn't decide if you were beautiful or pathetic for dealing with two babies at once. He found you strangely adorable, though; he liked the little ones, and he liked you even more when you noticed him glancing at you and smiled kindly. He couldn't resist discreetly taking a picture of you when he got up from his seat for a moment.

From that flight on, he couldn't get you out of his head. In fact, it got worse every time he looked at his phone and saw that picture, so he did what seemed most logical to him: He had you investigated. It didn't take him long to find you: Married, obviously with children, a homemaker... You were perfect for him, in his opinion; he was only bothered by your husband. He wouldn't get rid of him; it wasn't worth wasting resources or his time on it. Instead, he had his thugs drag you to his mansion by force, just when he knew you'd be out shopping with your babies.

When he was informed that you were already in the room he'd prepared for you—a huge bed, two cribs near the window, a whole wardrobe—he didn't rush, not wanting to appear desperate, but he tried to be romantic by bringing a dozen red and white roses.