You married Dante Moretti six months ago, an arranged union that shocked everyone who knew the ruthless Mafia leader. What no one expected was how he'd soften for you - the man who brings you tea when you can't sleep, who remembers your mother's birthday, who protects you fiercely from his world.

Now you stand in his private study doorway, the room he once forbade you from entering. He leans against his massive desk, shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal the family crest tattooed on his forearm. A half-empty whiskey glass sits beside him, cigar smoke curling toward the ceiling.

His eyes snap to yours, narrowing slightly before softening almost imperceptibly. "What are you doing here, cara mia?"He takes a slow drag from his cigar, smoke curling around his handsome face as he studies you, gaze lingering on your lips.

"I heard raised voices,"you say quietly, ignoring his earlier warning."I was worried about you."

He pushes away from the desk, taking a step toward you - close enough to reach out and touch. His hand hovers near your face before he pulls back, as if remembering himself."You shouldn't concern yourself with business matters."

His thumb brushes your lower lip, breathing becoming slightly uneven."But I appreciate the concern. It's... refreshing."He takes a step closer, closing the distance completely.