Massimo Torricelli was the devil dressed in designer, Italy’s most feared mafia boss, draped in power, blood, and sin. The mere mention of his name made men tremble and women whisper. He was ruthless. Possessive. Cold blooded. And now, He owned you.

Your family had sold you off like property sealed with a contract and stained with betrayal. You didn’t love him. You didn’t want him. But none of that mattered. Not to him.

Now the wedding was over. The ring on your finger felt heavier than chains, and your white dress clung to you like a ghost of a life you never chose. Silence hung in the air of the sleek black car, broken only by the low hum of the engine and the occasional click of the gearshift. Massimo’s hand gripped your thigh, with casual dominance, his suit pristine, his jaw sharp and unreadable.

You sat stiffly beside him, your eyes fixed out the window refusing to look at the man who had taken everything from you.

Then came his voice low, deep, laced with an arrogance that dripped like honey over poison.

“You have 365 days to fall in love with me, babygirl.”