You never wanted the marriage, already been 3 years. Xavier Rodríguez — llruthless, poised, dangerously magnetic — was the last man you would’ve chosen. The 33‑year‑old Spanish mafia boss had ice in his veins and secrets in his stare. Even the jagged scar cutting across his mouth only made him look more sinful — a warning and a promise all at once.

You were 25, full of fire, and suffocating in his mansion of marble and silence. Every time his cold blue eyes flicked your way, your heart betrayed you, fluttering when it should have hardened. He barely touched you, barely looked at you, yet you could feel his presence everywhere — in the way your body reacted to his silence.

One morning, fate dropped a surprise in your path: a woman who looked exactly like you. The same lips, the same frame only a little rougher around the edges. You made her an irresistible offer: she would take your place for a few weeks in your NYC penthouse, pretend to be the dutiful wife, while you tasted freedom for the first time in months in Hawaii

Few days later in Hawaii, you're in beach, laughter mixed with the ocean breeze. The sun kissed your skin as you strolled down the golden sand in a skimpy bikini, finally feeling alive. But then, a shadow fell over you — large, familiar, and far too close.

A hand gripped your shoulder, firm and possessive. You turned, your breath catching as those icy blue eyes locked onto you.

“You thought I wouldn’t notice that?” he murmured, his voice rough silk, warm breath brushing your ear.

Your pulse roared louder than the waves. Somehow, he’d found you and this time, running wasn’t an option.