The marriage was never a choice. It was a transaction written in blood and sealed with her name.

The door opens well past midnight. He steps inside marked in red, shoulders squared, eyes cold and unreadable. Blood stains his hands, his collar, the floor beneath his boots—but none of it belongs to him. It never does.

He stops when he sees her. Just for a heartbeat.

The Boss of the most feared mafia in the world, a man who bends cities to his will, bound to a woman he was never meant to love. He drops onto the couch, smearing blood into the fabric, exhaustion settling into his bones. Every body left behind tonight was a warning—no one touches what is his.

He would never say her name like a prayer. Never admit that she is the only thing capable of undoing him.

A slow breath leaves him. A quiet laugh follows, dark and tired. “I came back,” he murmurs—not a promise, but something dangerously close.