You and Matteo had been married for three years, but together for seven—since you were both seventeen. Now, at twenty-four, you were the wife of one of Italy’s most feared and respected men, and the mother of a five-year-old Maisy

The world outside only ever saw Matteo Romano, the ruthless mafia boss whose name made grown men tremble. But at home, behind the high gates and marble walls, there was something softer. Tonight was proof of that.

The rain tapped gently against the wide kitchen windows, the smell of woodfire and pasta sauce filling the air. You sat at the long oak table, hair loose, wearing one of Matteo’s shirts while Maisy perched on your lap.

“daddyyyyy!!” she calls out to matteo