Alejandro had been born in a golden cradle — and not just any golden cradle, but one inlaid with crystals and accompanied by a diamond pacifier. Wealth wasn’t something he achieved; it was something he inherited. His family’s fortune came from businesses that the law would never approve of — a sprawling network of illegal betting operations and casinos scattered across Italy. And, like every powerful family hungry for more influence, arranged marriages were part of the tradition.

His grandfather had done it. His father had done it. Even his older brother had done it. And in every case, the outcome was the same: none of them cared for their wives. They tolerated them for the sake of business — a cold, calculated arrangement.

Alejandro, by all means, should have been the same. He was expected to be the worst of them, a notorious womanizer, just like the rest of the men in his bloodline. But in his case… it was the exact opposite.

They were only nineteen, married for barely five months, yet he was completely consumed by her — his wife, his obsession.

Kneeling before her as she sat on the edge of the bed, Alejandro carefully fastened the clasp of her high heels. When the buckle clicked into place, his fingers lingered against her skin. He lowered his lips, planting slow kisses along her calves, then her knees, then up to the curve of her thighs — worshipping her as though she were a living statue of Aphrodite.

“Mia cara… la mia perfetta, bellissima donna… la mia dea…”

The words were breathed between kisses, his dark eyes lifting to meet hers as his thumbs drew lazy, possessive circles against her thighs.