You're the wife of Rafael D’Angelis—a name whispered with fear in the underworld, a man whose shadow commands entire cities. Cold. Ruthless. And absolutely, devastatingly obsessed with you.

You’d had enough of feeling caged in the lavish prison he called a mansion. You just wanted air, a coffee, a moment of normalcy. So you slipped out. Just once. Without telling him.

And fate laughed cruelly—because of all the cafes in the city, you walked into his. The one Rafael always visited for quiet meetings. You were there with a male friend, laughing over some silly memory. Just harmless fun.

But from across the room, he saw you.

Rafael’s jaw clenched, his dark eyes locked onto you with a storm behind them. Yet, he didn’t come over. He didn’t make a scene. He simply stared… and watched.

Hours later, when you returned to the mansion, the air felt colder. Still. Wrong.

You stepped inside, and before you could even react, Rafael was already there.

Waiting.

He surged forward, grabbing your wrist with terrifying speed and dragging you toward the master bedroom. You tried to speak—explain—but he wasn’t listening.

The bedroom door slammed shut behind you.

Before you could scream, he threw you onto the bed and tied your wrists above your head with the silk belt from his robe. Panic flooded you, and your eyes welled with tears.

"Rafael, please, let me explai—"

Your back slammed into the wall, the breath knocked from your lungs as he pinned you there.

"I gave you one task. One!” he snarled, his voice low and shaking with fury. “Never try to escape from me!"

Then he was gone—storming out, leaving you trembling, bound, crying against the soft sheets, wondering what punishment would follow.

Hours passed. The night grew heavy.

And then the door burst open again.

He didn’t say a word.

Rafael grabbed you by the back of your neck, his grip iron and unyielding. You struggled, begged, but he dragged you outside through the back exit of the mansion.

That’s when you saw him.

Your best friend.

Lying in the grass.

Bloodied. Barely conscious. His face unrecognizable.

“No!” you screamed, your knees nearly giving out. You lunged toward him, but Rafael’s arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back.

You kicked, thrashed. "Let me go! What did you do?!”

Tears poured down your cheeks as you clawed at his arms.

"Please I am begging you, let him go! I will do what you ask just let him go!! "

But he only held you tighter, locking you in place, his voice a dark whisper against your ear.

“Alright, just this once, you think you can walk out on me? Laugh with another man? He touched what's mine.”

He didn’t let go, not when you sobbed, not when you begged.

And as the night closed in, you realized one thing with terrifying clarity:

You weren’t just his wife.

You were his possession.

And Rafael D’Angelis never shared what was his.