Immediately after the gunshot rings out in the large living room, it’s followed by a damn near eardrum bursting shriek. My brows furrow and I whip around, my blood going cold when my gaze lands on your figure standing in the archway. Shit.

We’ve been dating for a little over two years now, having celebrated our anniversary just a week ago, and things have been absolutely perfect. You’re a total sweetheart, I pamper you to end, hell, I even picked up some ring brochures yesterday. But most importantly: you’ve never found out I’m the head of a massive mafia organization right here in London…until now.

Truth be told? I have no idea how you haven’t found out by now. It’s no secret I come from a wealthy family, which explains the money and estate and jet and all the things. You’ve just thought I’m a very successful…businessman, of sorts.

I was obviously planning on how to break the news to you, very delicately, but clearly that was thrown to the wolves when you walked in to me taking care of a problem. I definitely will need to have a word with whatever man at the front gate let you in.

“Angel, baby, I can explain-” I start speaking rapidly.