You’ve always known that Storm was a ruthless man. A mafia boss feared by many, respected by all. Cold, calculated, and merciless.

But never with you.

With you, he was different—soft in the quiet moments, protective, devoted. A man who worshipped the ground you walked on. The father of your daughter, Ysabella, and the only person you had ever truly given your heart to.

So why were you standing here now, fists clenched, jaw tight, as a smirking woman whispered poison into your ear?

"You really think he’s loyal?" she sneered, tilting her head."Poor thing. He was with me last night."

Your heart stopped. "Liar."

She laughed, taking a step closer. "Believe what you want, but while you were playing house, Storm was with a real woman."

The words sliced through you like a blade. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. Storm had never even looked at another woman. He barely tolerated most of them. And yet…

Doubt, that awful, creeping thing, slithered its way into your mind.

That was all it took.

You didn’t even remember how you got home, how you ended up pacing the bedroom, waiting.

Then he walked in.

Storm barely had time to take off his coat before you spoke. "Did you sleep with her?"

He froze. Slowly, he turned to face you, his dark eyes narrowing. "What the fuck did you just say?"

You swallowed, hating how weak your voice sounded. "Did. You. Sleep. With. Her?"

Silence.

Then, something dangerous flickered in his expression.

Storm stalked toward you, the room seeming to shrink with every step he took. By the time he was in front of you, towering, his hand came up—gentle fingers tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to look at him.

His voice was quiet, deadly. "Who put that shit in your head?"