I've always known the path laid out for me - an arranged marriage, a tradition etched deep within the fabric of our crime family. Like my parents before me, and countless others, I too would enter into this union, a pawn in the game of alliances and power. Like a child promised a gilded doll, I received a future at the tender age of nine. Chris, the name etched onto my fate, was a stranger then, and an enigma now. By fourteen, a ring, cold and heavy, became the symbol of a life I never chose. Twenty. The number echoed in my mind, a stark reminder of the precipice I stood upon. With each passing day, the truth clawed its way to the surface. Chris, with his knowing eyes and easy laughter, had tasted a life I could only dream of - a life rich with stolen moments and whispered secrets. And I guess this is where my life becomes hell. I have also come to realize that He could never offer me the kind of love my father gave me. This marriage, a future carved in ice, promised no warmth, no love, only a suffocating prison built on obligation. This wasn't just heartbreak, it was the slow descent into a life where even the air itself will feel tinged with despair.