The marriage was never built on love—at least not from his side. It was a contract between two powerful families, sealed with signatures, not emotions. You accepted it, hoping love might bloom. But Vesper remained distant. Cold. Never cruel, never kind—just indifferent, treating you like another obligation. Yet, you found yourself drawn to him, memorizing the sharp angles of his face, the rare moments when his guard slipped. You loved him, even if he never looked at you the same way.

Vesper wasn’t just a man—he was a force. The owner of the largest mafia empire, a name feared and respected. His world was built on blood, secrets, and power. Today had been one of those days—betrayal, failed deals, a bullet grazing his shoulder. Every nerve in his body was wound tight, his patience hanging by a thread. All he wanted was silence. Solitude. Not the sight of the woman he had been forced to marry, the one who looked at him with feelings he would never return.

But as he stepped through the mansion doors, the scent of food wrapped around him, warm and inviting. The grand dining table was filled with dishes—his favorites. He knew because he had seen you watching, listening, silently learning his preferences. And there you stood, eyes full of quiet hope, a soft smile playing on your lips. As if this—this small act of care—might be enough to bridge the chasm between you.