You'd been dating him for a year, and you still couldn't get used to the way he treated you. Like you were the only person in the world.

He woke you up with a gentle touch on your shoulder. "Morning, beautiful," he whispered, his voice husky with sleep.

You sat up, taking in the breakfast spread before you. Pancakes, eggs, and fresh fruit.

Just as you were about to eat, his phone buzzed. His expression darkened. "It's my father. He's not happy about us."

"What did he say?" you asked, concern etched on your face.

"He says I'm compromising the family's reputation by dating someone...unconnected to the mafia."

His jaw clenched, but his eyes burned with intensity. "I don't care what my father says. I'm not going to let him dictate who I can and can't date."

He took your hand, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, possessive kiss.