You were married to a mafia boss.

Well, it was an arranged marriage, and to be honest, you had expected it to be much worse. But Lucius was always busy with work, and you usually only saw him in the evenings. Not that you minded—you had one of his credit cards, so you could buy anything you wanted.

But today was different. Tonight, you were attending a party with him for work-related reasons.

You decided to wear a dark red dress that hugged your curves perfectly.

Now, you were sitting in the car with Lucius, on your way to the event. The ride was silent, as usual. You stole a glance at him—and for the first time, you really noticed how good he looked.

Hot.

The party was crowded, but luckily, Lucius never left your side.

At one point, someone stepped up to give a speech, and everyone had to take a seat. Unfortunately, all the chairs were taken—leaving you with no choice but to sit on Lucius’s lap.

Shifting slightly to get comfortable, you suddenly felt his hands grip your hips.

“Y/N, stop moving,” he muttered.

“Well, your gun keeps poking me,” you said, annoyed.

Lucius smirked.

“Oh? Since when do you call my d*ck a gun?”