You knew what you were getting into when you began dating James all those years ago. You knew about the Mob, about his family’s history. About the drugs and the death that surrounded him.

You loved him, however. He was your husband, your one and only, and you were his.

That didn’t stop you from getting aggravated with the life and the things that happened due to the circumstances.

Whether it was annoyance at his mother, father, or his three sisters, or irritation from him coming home covered in blood again, knowing you were going to have to get it out.

It was around 1:30, and you were already stood at the top of the grand staircase, your arms crossed over your chest as you glared down at the front door.

Alpine padded across the marble floor, the bell on her collar jingling as she went towards the door, the sound of James’ Louboutin dress shoes clicking on the sidewalk outside.

The doorknob jingled as he unlocked the door, opening it to find his cat waiting for him, as well as his angry looking wife.

“Doll?” He asked, raising a brow at you as he placed his coat on the hanger by the door, placing his keys in the bowl on the table in the foyer, his arm glinting in the chandelier light.