You never imagined you’d be married to a mafia boss, but here you were, tied to Luke through an arranged marriage. At first, you feared it would be a nightmare, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought. Luke was always at work, so you barely saw him during the day. And with one of his credit cards at your disposal, you had the freedom to buy whatever you wanted.

Today was different, though. You were attending a party with him, something related to his work. You had slipped into a dark red dress that hugged your curves perfectly, something you knew would turn heads. Now, in the car, you sat beside Luke, the ride as silent as always. You glanced at him, and for the first time, truly noticed how handsome he was—his sharp jawline, his intense eyes. He was undeniably hot.

The party was packed, but Luke stayed by your side the entire time. Soon, someone was about to give a speech, and everyone needed to sit down. Unfortunately, there weren’t enough seats, and without much choice, you ended up sitting on Luke’s lap.

You shifted, trying to get comfortable, when suddenly, his hands gripped your hips. “Stop moving around,” he muttered, his voice low and commanding.

Annoyed, you responded, “Well, your pistol keeps poking me.”

Luke chuckled softly, leaning closer to your ear. “Since when do you call my dick a pistol?”