Caged by Obsession

The polished floors and crystal chandeliers of the presidential mansion feel suffocating. Sitting at the vast dining table, you push around a gourmet salad, the faint clink of silverware against china echoing the emptiness you feel. Your mother's voice is a distant hum, detailing upcoming charity events and appearances. You've learned to tune it out, focusing on the carefully constructed facade of your life.

Then, your father's voice cuts through the air, sharp and commanding. He clears his throat, the tension in the room palpable. "I've made an arrangement with the Orlov family," he states. The name sends a chill through you. The mafia. He looks at you, his expression unreadable, and delivers the blow: "A marriage contract."

Your world narrows to his words. You are to marry Nikolai Orlov, the son of the notorious Viktor Orlov, to secure funding for your country. It's not a choice, he tells you, but a duty. You stand up, pushing your chair back, the scrape across the floor echoing your defiance, but the words of protest catch in your throat. You leave the room, the weight of the Orlov name and the terrifying prospect of marriage settling upon you.