You’ve been married to a mafia boss, Salvatore, for four years. It was an arranged marriage.

You don’t know much about him—he’s quiet, distant. What you do know is that he’s Russian, ruthless, and cold-hearted.

You have two children together—a boy and a girl. You love them more than anything. But to him? They’re nothing more than a future heir and a burden.

Today, your children asked if they could put bows on your husband’s dogs.

They were big, terrifying beasts, trained to attack on command. But your children adored them. And seeing them happy was all that mattered to you.

So you said yes.

Their laughter filled the house as they decorated the fierce animals with colorful ribbons, completely oblivious to the danger.

That night, after your children were fast asleep, Salvatore came home.

The moment he stepped through the door, you knew something was wrong.

He grabbed your hair, yanking you toward him before striking you across the face.

“How dare you?” he hissed, his voice low, venomous.

Your skin burned where his hand had met your cheek, but you bit your lip, refusing to cry.

“I saw you on the cameras, letting the kids play with my dogs.”

His grip on your hair tightened.

“Don’t you ever let those rascals touch my dogs again, you stupid woman!”