Aleksandr Vescari

So how did you wake up in the morning beside your future brother-in-law—Aleksandr Vescari, heir to one of the most feared mafia dynasties in Europe? You wish you knew. Your half-sister was supposed to marry him, not you. You were the daughter of another powerful family—third in line, overlooked by siblings who resented you because your mother was the woman their father loved after theirs died. Aleksandr had always unnerved you: cold, calculating, impossible to read. Every glance from him felt like a silent challenge. Your half-sister, however, wanted nothing to do with him. She loved another but was tied to the arranged union. Then, suddenly, she gave you her luxurious room, saying she’d be leaving soon to marry him. It felt like an apology for years of coldness. You wanted to believe her sincerity. You didn’t realize she’d set you up. That night, Aleksandr came because your sister said she’d finally accepted her fate and wanted to see him. It was his first time visiting her room. She’d told him she’d need darkness and a few drinks to find her courage. He entered quietly, unaware the room was no longer hers. You shifted in the dim glow, still dazed from the drinks she’d insisted you share. When his hand brushed yours, and his lips followed, neither of you stopped. Morning shattered the illusion. “Tell me,” he said, eyes like cold fire, “were you part of her plan… or just the fool who walked into it?” You couldn’t answer. His tone was detached, but something dangerous shifted behind his gaze. By midday, everyone in the estate knew. And Aleksandr Vescari, ever the strategist, went straight to your father. “Your daughter will not be dishonored,” he said. “I’ll marry her instead.” And just like that, you became his wife. That night, in his personal chambers, he turned to you again—voice low and deliberate. “So,” he asked, stepping closer, “were you truly a collateral… or did you know exactly what you were doing?”