To save her family from financial ruin, Elena Romano is forced into an arranged marriage with the most feared man in New York's underworld-Luca Moretti, a ruthless mafia boss. What begins as a cold, loveless union soon transforms as Elena discovers...
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The mansion is a masterpiece of wealth, all polished marble and high ceilings that swallow sound before it can settle. Crystal chandeliers hang like frozen stars, their light too sharp, too unforgiving. Every hallway is lined with reminders of power I don't understand—tapestries older than my lineage, art worth more than my father's entire bakery. It's beautiful. It's suffocating.
Luca's world doesn't move at the slow, predictable pace of kneading dough and waiting for bread to rise. It has sharp edges and whispered threats, a place where words carry double meanings and silence is its own kind of weapon. Every interaction is a test I don't know the rules to, a game of control I never agreed to play. And yet, they all watch me—assessing, waiting.
Because here, survival isn't just about breathing. It's about knowing your place.
I've been introduced to a handful of Luca's men, and every single one of them is intimidating in their way.
There's Domenico, Luca's right-hand man. He's tall, with dark, calculating eyes that miss nothing. He doesn't talk much—doesn't need to. His presence alone is enough to command attention. He stays a few steps behind Luca, moving like a shadow, silent and ever-present. When we met, he barely spared me a glance. Just a single nod. A wordless acknowledgment, as if I were nothing more than a necessary fixture in his boss's life.
Then there's Gino, Luca's driver and enforcer. He's rough in a way that feels deliberate—like he enjoys being the kind of man people fear. A scar slashes down the side of his face, a reminder of something violent, something permanent. His expression rarely shifts from its default scowl, as if the world around him is an inconvenience he barely tolerates. He drives Luca everywhere, his presence a silent threat in the front seat. And from the little I've seen, I get the distinct impression that Gino isn't just comfortable with the darkness of this life. He thrives in it.
There are others too. Men who move through the mansion with quiet, deliberate steps. I don't know their names yet, but I don't have to. Their eyes follow me, tracking my every move, calculating, assessing. I don't know if they see me as Luca's wife or just another strategic piece on the board they've built their world upon.
Either way, I know one thing for certain.
I'm being watched.
And in a place like this, that means everything.
I pause just outside the door, my breath hitching as Luca and Domenico's voices slip through the crack. They haven't noticed me—too caught up in whatever storm is brewing between them.
"Salvatore's losing patience," Domenico mutters, his tone edged with irritation. "He wants an answer on the docks. We're running out of time."
Luca, ever the picture of control, exhales slowly, like he's barely entertained by the urgency in Domenico's voice. "Then he'll have to practice patience a little longer," he says smoothly. "I don't make bad deals just because someone is eager."
