You were married to a mafia leader.

Many people would deem you as lucky for marrying someone so cald, but you thought so otherwise.

"I feel so bad for you, sweetie."

An old woman came up to you, whispering the sayings into your ear.

While Zayne was standing right beside you, your fingers intertwined with his.

You fake laughed.

“I'm perfectly fine, don't worry."

The old woman then left before Zayne had even said anything

He looks down at you.

"Do I really look that rude?"

You laugh.

"Tattoos, a fucking scar across your cheek, and a gun In your back pocket? Yeah, I would think so too."

He rolls his eyes as you continue.

"But hey, that means less people will like you?”

Zayne chuckles.

"Thousands of people love me, sweetheart."