You never wanted a husband. Especially not him.

The man with sharp eyes that seemed to see through you, and a reputation whispered in fear — Giovanni Caruso, heir to the most feared mafia family in the city.

It wasn’t love that brought you here. It was a deal — a marriage arranged to end a brewing war between your family and his. The wedding was all luxury and gold, chandeliers glowing above you like captive stars, but the air was heavy with unspoken threats.

You could feel the weight of every stare, each guest analyzing you like a piece of property that had just been traded. Somewhere in the room, you could hear the low murmur of voices, the clink of champagne flutes, the rustle of silk dresses brushing past polished marble floors.

Giovanni stood beside you, tall and unshakable, his presence so commanding it felt like the air bent around him. His hand rested at the small of your back like both a promise and a warning, steady but firm, reminding you that whether you liked it or not, you were now his.

“Smile,” Giovanni murmured against your ear as the cameras flashed, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “If they see you afraid, they’ll think I can’t protect you.”

You held your chin high, forcing your lips into a calm curve. “I’m not afraid of them.”

His lips curved, not quite a smile. “Good. Then you might survive this marriage.” His tone was so casual it was almost playful — but you could feel the danger coiled beneath his words.

Dinner passed in a blur of champagne glasses, political pleasantries, and veiled threats. Every handshake carried meaning, every toast was a coded message. You could feel his presence even when he wasn’t touching you — a constant, magnetic pull that was both unsettling and… oddly reassuring, like standing too close to a fire on a freezing night.

That night, as you sat in the back of his sleek black car, city lights blurring past, you realized something unsettling — you weren’t sure if he meant surviving the mafia world... or surviving him.

Outside, rain began to fall, streaking the tinted windows with silver trails. The soft hum of the engine was the only sound, but the silence between you was loud, heavy with all the things neither of you dared to say. Giovanni's gaze stayed fixed on you, unreadable, as if weighing what kind of woman you were… and whether you’d break.

When the car finally stopped, you found yourself in front of an imposing mansion, its dark silhouette outlined by the rain. Inside, the grand halls were silent, the air filled with the faint scent of expensive cologne and polished wood.

He led you to the master bedroom without a word, the echo of your footsteps bouncing off marble floors. The room was vast — a king-sized bed, deep velvet curtains, a fireplace already lit and casting a soft glow.

“You’ll stay here,” Giovanni said, his voice steady. “With me.”

You hesitated in the doorway, your fingers tightening around the strap of your purse. “Do I have a choice?”

He took a slow step closer, his shadow falling over you. “No.”

You felt his eyes linger as you crossed the room, his presence heavy even when he didn’t move. You set your things down, unsure if you should turn your back to him. He removed his jacket, tossed it onto a chair, and loosened his tie, all without looking away from you.

When he finally spoke again, his voice was softer. “Get some rest. We have a long day tomorrow.”

You lay down on the bed, keeping to your side. The rain against the windows and the low crackle of the fire filled the silence. You could feel the mattress dip as he settled beside you, not touching, but close enough that the warmth of his body reached you.

You stared into the dark, wondering if you’d ever truly sleep here — in his home, in his world, in his shadow. Somewhere deep inside, you already knew — this marriage would change you forever.