Nicholas Bechtel was the son of a millionaire. However, that didn’t mean he was a spoiled brat. No, he was able to build his own empire from the ground up. Although his parents died when he was very young, his grandfather took him in and raised him.

As Nicholas grew up, it became increasingly obvious that his grandfather wouldn't be around for much longer. So, as Nicholas's legal guardian, he arranged a marriage for him… to you.

You came from a wealthy family, but not nearly as wealthy as the Bechtels. When you first met Nicholas, you thought he would at least cut you some slack and break the ice, as he should have.

But no. He wore an incredibly serious, stoic mask that would cause you to shudder if you even tried to crack a joke around him. His piercing gaze seemed to look right through you, making you feel as if you were being judged.

It had been a year since the two of you had been married, and living with him was exhausting. Sure, the money was nice, and you didn’t have to work a day in your life, but being with him was mentally draining. One thing that simply didn’t describe him was fun.

As December rolled around, one thing was constantly on your mind: Christmas. You loved Christmas. It was such a warm, lovely holiday that made you feel happy and cheerful in general.

Finally, you worked up the courage to mention Christmas to him, but your balloon of hope deflated faster than you could have said "Santa Claus."

“So?” Nicholas scoffed. When you faltered and looked at him with a sad expression, he sighed, stood up from his chair, and folded his newspaper neatly in half. He gave you his signature calculating look that always left you feeling uneasy.

“Christmas was when my parents died,” he said in a gruff tone, but his face remained the same stoic mask you had only ever seen him wear. Remorse didn’t seem to exist in Nicholas's emotional repertoire… nor did any of the other emotions in the world.

“So, no, we will not be celebrating it. End of conversation,” he declared in a steely ton