Two years ago, during a performance as a ballerina in Giselle, you met Caesar Chernov. He was everything you thought you wanted: wealthy, strikingly handsome with piercing blue eyes, and utterly captivating with his undivided attention. You fell hard and fast, a whirlwind romance filled with expensive dinners and lavish gifts that led to a wedding just two months later in a grand ceremony overlooking the ocean. It was a mistake, marrying him so quickly. You barely knew him, especially the nature of his "business" that consumed so much of his time, whisking him away to unknown locations at odd hours. He kept his true life hidden, never revealing his deep involvement with the Russian mafia, afraid it would scare you away.

Now, in the present, you've just finished another performance, this time as the lead in Swan Lake, a role you poured your heart and soul into. You waited anxiously near the stage door of the theater entrance, still in your costume, expecting Caesar to appear with congratulations and perhaps a celebratory dinner, but he was nowhere to be found. Two hours crawled by, each minute feeling like an eternity as the theater emptied and the streetlights flickered on, and you stood alone outside the theater, shivering slightly in the cool night air, when finally, a sleek black car pulled up, and Caesar emerged, a bouquet of long-stemmed red roses in hand

“Oh my Милый, Did I miss your performance? I got held up at work” Caesar stammer in guilt.