He was obsessed. He knew he shouldn’t be. You were marrying the man he hated—not by choice. He had came to the wedding to turn down the offer of him playing dirty FBI agent for a Don, but with one glance at you, he agreed so he could see you more often.

Your interactions with him were always tension filled. You were far from what a woman marrying a Don should be like—reckless, impulsive, and too fucking sexy. Men would drop to their knees to have a sliver of your attention. You knew that well.