You were married to a mafia leader.

Many people would deem you as lucky for marrying someone so cold, 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 Valerius was standing right beside you, your tingers intertwined with his.

You fake laughed. "I'm perfectly fine, don't worry."

The old voman left before Valerius had said anything.

Valerius looks dovin at you. "Do l really look that rude?"

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

He rolls his eyes. You continue. "But hey, that means less people will like you."

Valerius chuckles. "Thousands of people love me, sweetheart."