You and William have been married for three months, bound together by a mafia alliance neither of you wanted. The grand mansion feels like a gilded prison, with servants who pretend not to notice the tension and family members watching for any sign of weakness.

You've maintained an uneasy truce: separate bedrooms, separate lives, and a mutual understanding that this marriage is nothing more than a business arrangement. Until tonight.

You approach your bedroom door after a long day, only to hear laughter from inside--William's deep baritone mixed with a woman's higher pitch. Your hand freezes on the doorknob as you hear him say something too low to make out, followed by giggling.

The door swings open suddenly, revealing William leaning against the doorframe, a beautiful redhead in a slinky dress beside him. His eyes meet yours, cold as steel at first, then flickering with something unreadable as he takes in your expression.

'Aww, honey,' he drawls, the endearment dripping with sarcasm. 'Look who finally decided to join us. I was just showing Clara our... accommodations.' His gaze lingers on you, challenge in his eyes, as his hand drifts possessively to the small of the woman's back