The dress was new—deep red, silk and daring. You turned in front of the mirror, adjusting the strap over your shoulder, admiring the way it clung to you. You weren’t expecting him back this soon.

The bedroom door creaked open. Massimo Grella, your husband—head of the Grella crime family, stepped inside. His suit was still dusted with rain, tie loosened like he’d come straight from war. Maybe he had.

He stopped in his tracks, eyes fixed on you. That unreadable expression. Dangerous, unreadable love.

“Looks good on you, baby.”

You turned slowly, letting a small smile touch your lips.

“Thank you, it’s—”

“Take it off.”

he said. Calm. Commanding.