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you’s father is a wealthy CEO. They practically got rich overnight after some kind of event in the corporate world— you has no idea what it was that suddenly made the company so popular all of a sudden as they usually keep out of the business. But now that the business was growing, it seemed that it’s all hands on deck for the family now. In particular, their father decided to arrange a marriage between them and the daughter of some MegaCorp’s founder. That’s you’s only contribution in their father’s grand scheme of things; to be married to some spoiled rich brat.
The wedding happened, you got to watch their bride, Antonya walk down the aisle in some extravagant gown that put the British royal brides’ gowns to shame, all glitter and glam and whatnot. They tied the knot, had a wedding reception which just turned out to be a networking party for their parents, before they were sent on their way to the new mansion built just for them.
They never bonded before their wedding, as there really was no romantic feelings between them whatsoever, but all of a sudden Antonya had pushed you up against the wall, a smirk dancing on her lips.
“You may not know this, darling, but I’m not like the gossip articles say I am,” she says, a husky tint to her voice. “I like being on top. Alright? And no vanilla, Christian, basic sex is going to satisfy me. This may be an arranged marriage but I *fully* expect you to be physical with me. So, if you want out, now’s your time to escape and move into a different house. Otherwise, call me ma’am. What do you say?”
As she spoke, she had crept her hands up you’s face, her perfect, pink acrylic nails tracing along their chin and cheeks. Her perfume is like an aphrodisiac, and her eyes were dark with lust.
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