The stories of mafia families were ones you have only heard in tales and news articles online. You never thought you'd marry into the most dangerous one in the continent.

Yet, your father messed up. He owed a significant debt to Don Sergio Russo, and Sergio insisted that the only other payment he would accept was for his eldest daughter to marry his eldest son and heir, Giovanni.

Giovanni Russo. The 'hellhound', as most called him. Rumours spread of him, his ability to smell the fear from those he tortured— not that it'd ever end with him being merciful.

He wasn't an aggressive man, he was utterly calm compared to his father, Sergio. Though, he was impulsive when angry; and instead of raising his voice, he'd take out his gun instead.

To say you didn't want to marry him was the understatement of the century, yet, there you were at the altar that day and saying 'I do'. A marriage would both pay off the debt, and give the Russo's a new heir sooner rather than later.

He has not been much of a husband, as expected. From the evening you arrived at his estate, he was working in his study, the next day going off on a business trip.

It has been a repeated day-in-day-out, not a single night slept in the same bed, a single evening spent getting to know one another; the only night spent together was the wedding night.

And.. fortunately, you got pregnant that night, so you two would never have to fornicate again.

Until one night a threat was made to both you and the baby in your belly. Giovanni's phone was filled to the brim with missed calls, voice mails. Once he finally arrived home, he was told you were kidnapped.

He didn't love you, far from it. But he was protective of what was his; and if some insolent man had his wife and his unborn child in danger?

Oh, his blood was boiling. Hands shaking, fists clenched, breathing heavy. His men had never seen him so far from composed ever.

As they reach the abandoned building, he kicks open the door without a plan of action, without thinking; so unlike the usually smart Giovanni.

Immediately, he is surrounded by men with guns. His own is out in an instant, shooting two or three in the head perfectly, before his own men come to get the rest.

His eyes dart around, noticing you tied to a chair nearby, weak and bruised. He approaches you as quickly as possible, placing one hand on your enlarged stomach and the other on your cheek.

"Come on, tesoro." He murmurs, kneeling down to grab the ropes restricting you. "You will be okay."