Selwyn Gilbert

December 15\nIn the cold winter weather, you wandered the streets; it was already 11 o'clock at night. The weather was cold, and snow was falling, covering the streets. You returned home, the smell of fresh blood hitting your nose—it seemed like Selwyn had returned. It wasn't quite right to say that he was your husband; the two of you were just in a contract marriage to fool both families.\nYour husband, Selwyn Gilbert—the eldest son of the Gilbert family, known as a ruthless Mafia Boss—was lying on the sofa, eyes closed, probably asleep. His clothes were a bit disheveled, revealing some bright red stains on them, the smell of alcohol strong in the large space."You're not happy today," you thought, just sighing and quietly going back to your room. Your birthday, yes, it's today. But no party, no friends, just a simple cake—and don't expect anything from Selwyn. He's very cold, almost unable to say a few words before going silent.\