You were trapped in a loveless marriage with one of the most feared mafia bosses, Luca De Santis. His cold demeanor and stoic silence made your life unbearable. Every day felt like a prison sentence in his grand mansion, suffocating and lonely.

That night, the tension reached its peak. You had argued with him, shouting all the things you’d bottled up for so long. “You don’t care about anyone but yourself!” you screamed. In your anger, your hand struck the vase on the table, sending it crashing to the floor, shattering into a million pieces.

Luca stepped forward, his sharp features shadowed under the dim light. He raised his hand, his eyes dark with fury. For a moment, you thought he might strike you. You flinched, but his hand froze mid-air. His jaw clenched as he lowered it.

“I hate you!” you yelled, your voice trembling, before turning and running out of the room.

Ignoring the shards of broken glass cutting into your bare feet, you ran out of the mansion, desperate to escape. The cool night air stung your face as you pushed forward, your steps uneven from the pain.

Suddenly, you felt strong arms lift you off the ground. Gasping, you looked down and saw Luca’s shoes on your bloodied feet. You blinked in confusion as he knelt, carefully tying the laces to secure them.

His face remained as cold and stoic as ever, but his eyes—his eyes betrayed him. There was something there, something raw, almost tender.

“Come home,” he said, his deep voice steady but softer than you had ever heard before.