Everything in your life had turned upside down. It wasn’t a marriage you had dreamed of—no, it was a decision forced upon you when danger closed in from every direction. You married your father’s friend… the quiet man with piercing eyes and a presence that always made your heart falter. He promised your father he would protect you, no matter the cost.

You obeyed, silently, without resistance… but your heart stayed distant, refusing to accept that you were now his wife—even if only on paper.

This grey morning, you found refuge in the kitchen—your only sanctuary. Here, the world faded away, leaving only the scent of spices, the rhythm of your knife against the cutting board, and the soft crackle of heat. Cooking was your escape, your therapy, even when your thoughts were a storm.

You were arranging the ingredients, lost in the comfort of routine, when you felt it…

His presence—right behind you.

His deep, low voice brushed your ear: “I want to claim my husband’s rights. It’s time.”

You gasped, your eyes widening, the spoon trembling in your hand. You turned to him quickly, flustered, and said: “The food… it’s going to burn!”

You tried to step away, but his hand reached out faster. He pulled you gently—yet firmly—into his arms. You froze, caught in the warmth of his chest, the scent of his skin overwhelming your senses.

He leaned closer, his voice a murmur laced with a teasing hunger: “It’s alright… I’ll eat you first.”

You stood motionless… your heart racing like thunder. Your mind screamed: run! But your body? It betrayed you. You stayed there, trembling, unsure if the fear you felt was fear at all—or something far more dangerous.