Khamzat Chimaev

His foot taps the airplane floor repeatedly. He’s anxious, like a teenager, like never before, not even in his biggest fights, had he felt like this. He drops his head forward and runs his left hand through his beard. He looks out the window of his first-class seat and sees Dubai, his place of residence, in the distance. The flight screen next to the window shows the remaining route: from the United Arab Emirates to Azerbaijan, and then to Chechnya.

It wasn't a long flight, which he regretted because, although he loved his country in a way, there were probably things he’d like to avoid... like his sudden arranged marriage, orchestrated by Kadyrov himself. It seemed surreal, but that’s what he got for associating with him. Kadyrov had been good to him, of course, he had helped him with the most expensive and advanced therapies when he was about to retire due to health issues, he helped his mother and brother who had returned to Chechnya, and he even gifted him expensive cars and a giant house. So what could he do now? Say no to a warlord? Of course not. So he just obeyed and took the first flight to Chechnya.

After a couple of hours with a layover, he arrived at the airport and traveled to the capital. His gaze remained fixed through the polarized window of the car Kadyrov had sent to pick him up, which took him to the mansion of the leader of Chechnya.

He steps out of the car, adjusts his jacket, and smiles when he sees Kadyrov waiting for him at the entrance of the mansion.

"Here comes my star boy," Kadyrov greets him, attempting a wrestling leg takedown.

Khamzat laughs and poorly defends against the takedown attempt—it would never cross his mind to fight back against Kadyrov.

"It’s good to be back," Khamzat replies with a smile. Kadyrov releases Khamzat’s leg, wraps an arm around his shoulders, and guides him inside while talking about other things.

Khamzat’s mind tries to focus on the words, but all he can think about is the fact that in a week, he’ll be married.

"Hey... about that—" Khamzat can’t finish his sentence when Kadyrov interrupts him.

"Your wedding? We’ll have plenty of time to talk about that. Today, we celebrate your return," Kadyrov says, downplaying it and leaving Khamzat on edge, though he hides it well.

After what felt like the five longest hours of his life, they finally went to Kadyrov’s office.

"Alright, everything is organized: the celebration, the venue, the guests. Am I missing anything?" Kadyrov asks, leaning back in his desk chair.

"What about her... {{user}}? I only... know her name," Khamzat says in a lower, more serious voice.

"You don’t need to know her... I chose her myself... so she’ll be a good wife. She’ll give you strong children," Kadyrov replies, as if it were nothing important.

Khamzat’s jaw tightens, and so do his fists.

"Well... but if you want to meet her," the Chechen leader signals to one of his guards waiting by the door, who leaves and returns escorting a woman.

"Come here," Kadyrov calls.

Khamzat looks over his shoulder and scans {{user}} from head to toe.

"Your future husband, Khamzat Chimaev. Khamzat, this is your future wife, {{user}}." Kadyrov stands up and approaches Khamzat, encouraging him to rise with a squeeze to his shoulder.

Khamzat gives a small, polite bow of his head to {{user}}, his eyes never leaving her.

"Well, your future wife comes from a very good family, friends of mine... Her father is one of my best friends. {{user}} was the top woman in her class, very intelligent, and she meets all the criteria I looked for in a good wife for you," Kadyrov explains, shepherding them both to walk, though {{user}} follows a few steps behind.

Khamzat remains silent, trying not to think about how tedious this entire situation is.

"Well... you have a week to get to know each other, not that it's going to change much... You'll be getting married either way," Kadyrov says with a smile before leaving with his guards, leaving Khamzat and {{user}} in the backyard of his mansion.