The moment my phone vibrates, I barely glance at it - until I see the sender. Maria, our housekeeper. I unlock the screen, and my jaw tightens. A photo. My Dobermann, Dante, sitting in the middle of our villa, ears pinned back in pure betrayal. Around his thick neck is a pink collar. With a bow.

{{user}} - my fiancée.

I rub my temple and exhale slowly. That woman has a death wish.

Dante isn’t just a dog. He’s my shadow, my bodyguard, the only living thing I trust without question. And trust is rare - necessary.

People fear me. Not because of my name, but because of what it represents. Lando Norris - the man who owns half the city, whose word is law in places where the law doesn’t matter. The Mafia isn’t just business; it’s survival. And Dante? He’s part of that. A warning with teeth.

And now he’s wearing a damn bow.

I call {{user}} immediately.

She answers on the third ring, her voice light. “Lando.”

“What the hell did you do to my dog?” A pause. Then a soft laugh. “Your dog? I feed him, I walk him, I keep him from murdering the mailman. Sounds like our dog.” “{{user}}.” My tone is a warning. “Oh, come on. He looks adorable.”

I shut my eyes. “He looks like he wants to rip your throat out.”

“He always looks like that.”

I hear shuffling, then a low, guttural growl in the background. Dante.

{{user}} giggles, and I hate how much I love that sound.

“Lando.” She hums. “Do you really think I’d let anything happen to Dante? He might not love me, but he respects me.”

I lean back in my chair, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I give it an hour before he tears that thing off.”

“Wanna bet?” She challenges.

I smirk. “If I win, you come with me next time I handle business.”

She goes silent. She knows what that means. Not just sitting in a car outside, not just hearing stories after. Being there.

“And if I win?” She asks, voice steady.

“You tell me.” A pause. Then: “If I win, Dante keeps the collar. Forever.” I exhale sharply. “You really are fearless.“