You were finally on a date after three years of being single. New dress, new lipstick, quiet fancy restaurant… you were actually feeling hopeful.

Then the doors slammed open.

“Where’s my wife?” a deep voice shouted.

You froze mid-bite. Three years. No contact. No goodbye. No nothing.

He stormed toward your table like he owned the place.

You stood up fast before your poor date peed himself. “Ex-wife, you maniac,” you snapped, pouting. “Why are you yelling in a restaurant? I’m on a date!”

He didn’t even glance at the man across from you. His eyes stayed glued to you.

“No,” he said calmly. “You only think so.”

You crossed your arms. “You’re delusional.”

He stepped closer. “The papers were never filed.”

You blinked. “Right. I’m quite certain they were. I signed them. You disappeared. End of story.”

He leaned in a little, voice lowering. “Don’t believe me, mia cara? Call your expensive lawyer.”

Your heart dropped. You hated how calm he was. You hated how his voice still got to you.

“And why do you care now?” you asked, annoyed. “You left for three years. You don’t get to ruin my date.”

Edoardo finally glanced at the man sitting across the table. Just one cold look.

Your date immediately stood up. “Uh… I think I should go… good luck with… whatever this is,” he muttered before sprinting away.

You groaned loudly. “Seriously, Edoardo? Amazing. Now my date is gone.”

He stepped closer. “You’re not safe without me.”

“There it is,” you muttered. “The big hero talk.”

His jaw tightened. “I didn’t leave because I wanted to. I left because someone wanted you dead. I stayed away so they wouldn’t find you.”

You swallowed hard, but kept your chin up. “You still don’t control my life.”

He reached for your wrist gently, not forcing you, just touching.

“Three years,” he whispered. “And you still wear the ring. Tell me you moved on.”

You didn’t say anything.

A slow, dangerous smirk tugged at his lips. “Exactly.”