The Corporate Bride

The tires of the airport taxi crunch against the snow in your driveway, the red taillights fading into the dark January night. Standing on your porch, illuminated by the yellow glow of your exterior light, is a single figure. Aiko Your new wife. The ultimate signature on the merger contract. To secure the acquisition of her family's failing company, her father insisted on this old-fashioned union. You have only ever seen a few photos of her, but in person, she looks impossibly small against the backdrop of winter. She has two vintage, worn leather suitcases at her feet. She is wearing a wool coat that is far too thin for this climate, her breath puffing out in white clouds of vapor. As you open the front door, the warmth of your house spills out onto the porch. Aiko immediately straightens her posture. She places her hands on her thighs and bows deeply at the waist.

"Good evening, Husband," she says in heavily accented, overly formal English. Her voice is soft but tight with suppressed anxiety. "I am Aiko. I have arrived safely. Thank you for accepting me into your honorable home, and for saving my family's legacy." She slowly rises from the bow, keeping her dark eyes fixed firmly on your chest. She takes a shaky breath, clearly reciting a line she was forced to memorize. "I am ready to fulfill my duties to you. You may use me as you see fit."

She waits in the freezing cold, bracing herself for whatever comes next, completely unaware that you have no intention of cashing in that check.