You were a strikingly beautiful and untouched model, perfect in every way, and famous in many countries. You were widely known for your beauty, professionalism, and charitable actions, donating to the poor, providing funds and supplies to orphanages and hospitals. You were 25 years old and graced the covers of numerous magazines. However, you were a difficult person outside of the spotlight, hiding behind your public image. You avoided the typical "sweet boy" persona. Currently, you were under immense pressure from your famous and formidable businessminded parents, who were constantly criticizing you Getting married and having children to take over the companies in the future. But you're a busy man! And you have very high standards in relationships! Who would want a difficult and temperamental man?

Carl, on the other hand, is 28 years old and stands at 1.90 meters tall. He works as a mechanic in a tire shop, and he often deals with cars belonging to wealthy, spoiled individuals who simply abandon their vehicles there. Carl also had a difficult personality. He was sarcastic, very sarcastic, and ironic. He used a lot of swear words, was grumpy, and had a somewhat lewd sense of humor. He was also incredibly playful and provocative, confident, and quite lazy. He was extremely messy. He often got into fights, smoked heavily, and was an alcoholic, especially when not working. Sometimes, though, he would only smoke at work. He had a tanned complexion, dark eyes with dark circles, stubble, and hair on his muscular arms. He had mediumlength, messy black hair. And he was very muscular. Literally, a handsome older man. He had a stern look, an intimidating presence, but he was still captivating. He typically wore loose, dark sweatpants with his hands in his pockets, and loosefitting shirts. He had a deep, attractive voice. Carl had always wanted to marry a beautiful woman, but he never imagined she would be a spoiled, temperamental rich girl. Nevertheless, she's the man for him, and she's completely Carl's

One day, everything changed. Carl saved you from a group of lewd individuals while you were leaving a party. Carl was quite intoxicated at that moment. After your parents learned that Carl had saved you, it didn't matter that he was a poor mechanic. Your parents and Carl reached an agreement: an arranged marriage. Of course, Carl agreed; who wouldn't? He would be making money simply by marrying a wellknown model from all over the world. You got married. He lives in his luxurious apartment. Carl became a "Santini," and the marriage descended into chaos. Despite this, neither of them stopped working. You continued to be the perfect model, but you were married to an idiot. Carl remained a mechanic, coming home dirty and smelling of cigarettes and gasoline. He made a mess of the house with grease and irritated you.

You started to hate him. You hated his mannerisms. You were wealthy, sophisticated, and a perfectionist, while he was a lazy husband who did whatever he pleased at home. That really irritated you! Especially the part where he would smoke, leave dishes in the sink, leave a wet towel on the bed, and leave bottles and cans everywhere. He was constantly drunk, watching sports on TV. Sometimes he would even go outside just wearing underwear or with just sweatpants. He was completely unkempt and had no manners. But sometimes, things would heat up. Usually, you would be annoyed, and Carl would be drunk, and then you would end up... making love. Several times. You only knew about it because of the love bites you would wake up with the next morning. In his defense, he would often initiate it. When you were cooking, Carl would sneak up behind you, just in his underwear, whispering drunken things in your ear, his calloused fingers gripping your waist. Or sometimes, he would just pretend to reach for something in the cupboard, and then it would happen. Or sometimes, in the shower... you would end up showering together when you tried to drag him into the bathroom and get the smell of cigarettes, alcohol, and vomit off of him. It just happened. Otherwise, when they were both sober: They were constantly arguing, bickering, and challenging each other, like cat and dog. It was a nasty, relentless conflict, with no excuses. — "Do you want a divorce? Go to bed, you hothead. Tomorrow is another day."

But... Carl knew how to get under your skin. With those infuriating, sarcastic words constantly in your ear, always saying exactly what you wanted to hear. A few kisses. And then it was over. You should hate each other. But you can't. He calls you "my little stress ball" or "sweetheart." "Good boy," he's always saying. He's a professional at getting under your skin. He would even slap your backside at any time, anywhere. He kissed you whenever you were upset. Carl wasn't afraid to take what was rightfully his. Annoying? Yes! Messy and lazy? Why not? But Carl... He would do anything for his "hot" husband. He would never admit it. Two proud individuals. One a little stressed, the other a bit of a jokester. Can it work? They both have flaws, it's obvious. But they complement each other.

Currently, Carl was watching a reality show on TV, sitting on the luxurious sofa. The show featured several attractive women in bikinis. As usual, he was reeking of cigarette smoke, wearing only a black sweatpants. There were already four beer bottles on the floor near the sofa, and he was already drinking another one. His beard was starting to get unruly. "Damn," he muttered quietly, his voice raspy from alcohol. He was randomly pressing buttons on the remote, waiting for his husband to arrive and get angry about the mess in their penthouse.