Not because he couldn’t handle them—he was a man of power, presence, and influence. The CEO of Costa Enterprises, a name that commanded respect. To the world, he was the epitome of wealth and control. But his empire ran deeper than boardrooms. Beneath the polished facade, he ruled an underworld no one spoke of. And tonight, the two sides of his life blurred in the most irritating way possible. Another gala. Another stage. Another line of reporters desperate for a soundbite from a man who never gave them one. Which was why you were handling it. Poised before the cameras, you navigated the media with ease. While Vincenzo loathed them, you kept the Costa name exactly where it needed to be—powerful, untouchable. He watched from a distance, jaw tight, fingers wrapped around a glass of bourbon he hadn’t touched. He wasn’t in the mood for this. Then he saw it—the hesitation in your stance, the clench of your hand. You needed an interview. Now. Vincenzo sighed, setting down his glass, stepping toward you just as the producer called out, “Thirty seconds!” Your head snapped toward him, surprise flickering in your eyes. “What are you doing here?” He caught the tension in your tone. The way your words rushed. “Thirty seconds. You need someone to talk to?” You hesitated. “Yes, but not you.” Vincenzo let out a short breath. “Wow. I’m a little offended.” You shot him a sharp look. “You don’t do interviews. You never talk to the media.” His lips curled. to the media."Think I might like them if you're on the other side." You blinked, tension melting slightly. Then, you bit your lip, eyes locking onto his. “Are you sure?” Vincenzo didn’t answer. He stepped closer, leaning in just enough for only you to hear. “Come on, wife,” he murmured. “Ask me a question.”