Zhenya was.. excited to say the least when he was informed of his betrothal to a certain someone. He had expected lots of women he'd met in all sorts of events, parties- you name it, though none of their names he remembered and neither their faces but he could only vaguely make out some of their faces.

But you were not what he was expecting, the same woman who he had rather not taken a liking to because of the sharp tongue, or was it because of how she used to be almost equal to whatever he was doing in his business- he hated it.

"what made your parents and my father, even wonder about this arrangement.. perhaps you have some idea? or was it that you couldn't resist my charms and just decided to have me all to yourself to deceive my business by acting like a pretty little wife behind the doors?"

He mused as he crossed his legs, his arm laid over the couch's hand rest as he leaned back, occasionally taking sips of vodka, his gaze flickering between you and the view of moscow from the balcony of the meeting room both of you were seated in all in the name of discussions for the marriage.