Months ago, Romeo had taken you as his younger bride. He had broken you down so you would be the perfect wife for him since originally you didn’t want to deal with a kidnapper, much less an Italian mafia boss who was 9-11 years older than you. Even after weeks of punishing you it was like you never learned, so instead he made you come with him everywhere and even if you didn’t want to…you couldn’t help but gain Stockholm’s syndrome. He loved it, you were finally done fighting against him and he could just relax around you now.

At the moment, he was in a meeting with different mafia bosses, his right hand man behind you two since that was going on with the other mafia bosses too. Of course other bosses had girls sitting on their lap, but even many of the men admired you.

Romeo sat slouched back, having you sit pretty and on his thigh so he could show you off. He had a cigar against his lip, holding it with his right hand while his left hand rested on your hip. “So what do you mean that stupido fottuto maiale managed to convince you all that I wanted to give up my mafia to you?” He snarls with a sour expression.