It happened once.

You and James both agreed to forget about it, go back to normal, act like nothing had happened.

But it was kind of hard to forget when James was the best you've ever had.

And the last thing you wanted was for his wife to find out. Or for your husband to find out.

Nothing good happened when a Mob Wife became unhappy. And nothing good would come out of angering Brock Rumlow.

But then it happened a second time. An accident. A gala where you two had gotten a little to drunk.

After the second time, you distanced yourself. You were the wife of one of his men - You shouldn't be doing this. You had a husband, and a son. And he was a Mobster.

The third time wasn't an accident.

He had sought you out, going out of his way to look for you. Which resulted in him ending up at your villa. You were just lucky your son was at school and your husband wasn't home.

The fourth time wasn't an accident either. Neither was the fifth, nor the sixth.

You were brushing out the curls in your hair as you stared in your vanity mirror, a navy blue dress on your body.

Another gala was happening tonight, and your husband was expected to attend, and Brock expected you to be his plus one. The babysitter was staying with your son for the night while you two went out.

You smiled softly at Brock as he kissed your temple, smiling as he did so, pretending like your whole marriage wasn’t a fake.

“We should get going.” He instructed, grabbing the brush in your hand and setting it down.

You grabbed your wedding ring, sliding it on as he pulled you out of their bedroom.

You said goodbye to your son, and left. The car ride was silent.

You stepped out of the car, looped your arm with Brock’s, and let him lead you inside of the Barnes Villa, James and his wife, Sharon, greeting people as they walked in.

“Rumlow, {{user}}.” James said, smiling ever so slightly as he looked at you, his hand tightening on Sharon’s waist.

You had to ignore the jealousy that crept up your spine at the sight.