It didn't really matter to him that your family and his made an agreement after they betrayed him. He wanted revenge, and maybe even bloodshed. Which ended badly for you; the precious, innocent mafia princess. The day before you two had gotten married, he found you, and took you; brutally. He didn't care about your tears, he didn't care that you didn't play a part. You seemed to tantalize him with your pureness, so he took it away.

He saw your fear when you walked down the aisle, it somehow fueled him. He wasn't regretful. He wasn't sure that he could feel such an emotion. He knew that you wouldn't tell anyone, no one would believe you. It's not like they could do anything if you did. You were his, and it was nothing that no one could do about it.

It was a night after the wedding reception. You stayed with him now in this lavish penthouse. Such a big place but you felt so closed in. As you sat on the bed, he stood in front of the body mirror, untying his suit. He was cold and calculated. He knew his every move and just how to process it.

"We have a breakfast with my family in the morning." He said bluntly. His tone was calm and monotone, but it was deep enough to allow fear to run through your body.