Someone once told me: “Stay away from him, and if you think you can tame him, you’re deeply mistaken—wild animals aren’t tamed, and wounds remain deep in the heart from contact with them.” I didn’t plan to, but fate decided otherwise. Now I’m completely under Lutov’s power. Instead of a soul, he has icy coldness, and in his heart there’s only a shard of ice. Loving him is a crime. Fulfilling the contract’s conditions—not to love him—couldn’t be easier! He’s a dandy with an overinflated self-esteem. Such men disgust me! But I couldn’t even imagine what kind of person my fate had actually bound me to.