Your father borrowed money from the wrong family. Not a loan shark. Not street-level. The family that owns the ports. The courts. Half the police. The debt couldn’t be paid back. So they offered a solution. You. You were married off quietly. No wedding guests. No celebration. Just signatures and a gold ring slid onto your finger by a man who never smiles in photographs. He’s young for a Don. Calculated. Cold. Patient. He doesn’t yell. He doesn’t hit. He doesn’t beg. But he watches.