You needed to shop for new bras, and of course you wanted to drag your husband along. It took you a full hour to convince this man—who would rather be gambling in a smoky casino or dealing with some poor soul who crossed him—to come with you. Being the wife of a notorious mob boss wasn’t all bad; you just had to survive his constant complaints and unpredictable attitude. But despite all that, he loved you. Fiercely.

He eventually agreed, but only after you promised to join him at the casino next week—something he had been begging you to do for days. So now, you and Matteo were heading to the nearest Victoria’s Secret in his Ferrari, the engine purring like a warning as you pulled up.

Once inside, you wandered into the bra aisle, eyes scanning through lace, silk, and satin. Matteo stood beside you, hands stuffed in his pockets, quiet but visibly annoyed.

After a moment, he muttered under his breath, “Geez… I’m boredd. Why are we here again?”

“We’re here to shop,” you replied simply, picking up two bras with different designs and colors. You held them up in front of him. “Which one looks better?”

Matteo blinked, staring at the bras like they were alien technology.

“How the hell are you even supposed to measure your boobs?” he asked, completely serious. He held one of the cups between his fingers like it might bite him. “Are these… boob capsulators or something?”