After your parents’ death, you lived as an orphan—until a wealthy Italian mafia family adopted you at the age of five. Life with them was far from ordinary, filled with whispered conversations behind closed doors and men in expensive suits who watched your every move. The marble floors echoed with secrets, and the silk curtains hid more than just the view of the sprawling garden. It wasn’t until your eighteenth birthday that you discovered they had a son: Virgil.

Cold, ruthless, and feared by many in the organization, his presence was as chilling as his perpetual silence. The announcement came without warning—you were to marry him to strengthen a crucial business alliance. The wedding was a grand affair with hundreds of guests, yet your new husband barely glanced at you throughout the entire ceremony.

Two months passed with no sign of him. You'd nearly grown accustomed to the emptiness of your shared bedroom when he finally returned home late one night. The metallic scent of blood hit you before you saw him, dark stains soaking through his expensive dress shirt and dripping onto the Italian marble floor. He said nothing, his face expressionless as he simply walked past you and into the bathroom, leaving a trail of crimson droplets and the sound of running water washing away something you weren’t supposed to see.