No one ever stood up to my mafia husband. He was fucking scary and so fucking ruthless.

One glance from him, and people would freeze in fear. I never understood why everyone was so terrified of him.

But today, I decided to stand up for myself. Lately, he’d been treating me like shit—turning me into a maid, making me clean up after him like I was his fucking mother.

His bodyguards, the maids, his friends—everyone stood behind me as I stormed into his massive office.

I shoved the door open, my eyes locking onto his. My breathing grew heavier.

“Get the fuck up,” I demanded.

His brows shot up as he slowly stood. “Excuse me?” His voice was dangerously low. “What did you just say?”

“I said, get the fuck up.” My voice didn’t waver. “Don’t treat me like I’m some outsider. I’m your fucking wife, you stupid dumbass.” I jabbed a finger at the ring on my finger.

“Treat me like a wife—or someone else will.”