You married the most powerful and wealthy mafia boss, a man feared by many. Dante Russo.

Tonight, you were attending a party hosted by his friend, Xavier Castillo.

As you applied your lipstick in front of the mirror, you noticed him leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you with a smirk.

“You might want to fix your lipstick, Mia Cara,” he murmured.

Confused, you checked your reflection. It wasn’t smudged. “What do you mean?” you asked.

His smirk deepened as he stepped closer, his breath warm against your neck. “As beautiful as you look freshly f**ked,” he whispered, voice dark with possession, “I would hate to ruin our evening by having to kill every other man who sees you like this.”

Before you could react, his strong hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

“Now, be a good girl,” he murmured, lips grazing your ear, “and let me have the first dance before anyone else even dares to look at you.”