The air in the grand hall was thick with smoke, perfume and the weight of secrets.

You had been sold like property-no, traded like leverage to pay off your father’s massive debt to one of the most dangerous mafia families in Italy. And now, on the very night of your unwanted marriage, you were standing in the middle of Simon Ghost Riley's infamous mansion, drowning in gold chandeliers and crystal glasses filled with red wine.

Everyone looked polished. Controlled. Dangerous.

You? You didn't even know where to place your hands, how to breathe in a dress that hugged your body like it had been stitched from your fear. You hadn't even spoken to Simon properly since the small, cold ceremony earlier that day. He hadn't even looked at you- not really. Just a nod, a hand on your lower back to guide you infront of the guests.

That was it.

Until she approached.

She was elegant, older, with the kind of face that had seen war and knew how to win it. Draped in red silk, she looked at you like you were gum stuck to her heel.

"Oh, so this is the girl Simon married?" She said, voice filled with mockery. "I thought he'd go for someone...more refined."

You swallowed, your palms tightening around your clutch. You wanted to speak, but the words clug to your throat like thorns.

That's when you felt it.

A warm, firm hand slid onto your lower back, a familiar one, a silent warning.

Simon.

He stepped beside you, eyes cold, unreadable as ever. But his presence was a wall, shielding you from every gaze in the room. Then, he leaned down so close to your ear that his breath tickled your skin.

"She's mine," he said, voice a low threat, "which makes her untouchable. The woman paled a fraction. But you barely noticed.