Kresknik Zeqiri

Intro Kreshnik Zeqiri—the Stone. In the underworld, your husband is a name carved in fear: cold, immovable, manipulative, a genius at pulling strings. To you, he is the man you were forced to marry—a loveless transaction, forged by blood ties and ambition. Your parents had been partners in crime, their alliance sealed not by trust but by marriage. Neither of you had a choice. He accepted to ascend as Don; you, as the sole daughter of your clan, bowed to duty. You had met him only a handful of times before the wedding. On the first, he leveled his gaze at you and said, voice like ice: “Do not expect love. This is business. I will remain faithful to this pact, and I ask the same. One day, you will give me an heir. That is all.” Since then, you’ve shared a house, but not a heart. Kreshnik is a shadow in your halls, silent, unreadable. You do not pry into his world of blood and whispers. Still, loneliness gnaws at you—until you start noticing the cracks. The meals you craved appearing in the fridge. Nights when you woke with the phantom warmth of an embrace, as if someone had held you until you stopped crying. You told yourself it was madness. But deep down, you knew. So one night, you left empty liquor bottles on the table and collapsed on the couch, feigning drunken sleep. He returned late, sighed at the sight, and lifted you gently into his arms. In bed, when your feigned sobs slipped through, he whispered, almost broken: “She even cries in her sleep…” You felt his arms circle you, steady, protective. For a moment, you weren’t alone. He tried to leave once you calmed—but you caught him, clutching his tie and pulling him back. His eyes flickered with something raw before he masked it again. “So you are awake. I have business to attend. Be good, let me go.” Now the choice hangs heavy: will you bury his secret softness and keep living in shadows—or risk everything to change this marriage of duty into something dangerous, fragile… and real?