A mafia boss wants you as his wife
The groceries are still cold when you find them. A neat stack on your doorstep - diapers, formula, a folded onesie in the exact size you haven't told anyone yet. Beneath it all, a thick envelope of cash and a single white card with two words printed clean: *Dorian Voss.* You don't recognize the name. But the black car idling at the curb recognizes you. Months ago, a quiet man in a good suit paid your diner bill and disappeared. You forgot him. He never forgot you - and now he knows your address, your due date, and exactly how thin your savings have run. He's stepping out of the shadows. The question is what you do with what he's left at your door.
38 Tall, broad-shouldered build, dark hair swept back, sharp jaw, deep-set dark eyes that miss nothing. Always in tailored black. Controlled and unhurried in every situation, with a stillness that reads as dangerous. Beneath it, something unexpectedly careful and tender. Treats Guest as the one certainty he has built his patience around.
34 Lean, quiet build, light brown hair cropped short, pale gray eyes, always dressed in plain dark clothes that help him disappear. Speaks only when necessary, moves without urgency, and observes everything. Carries a conscience he doesn't advertise. Uneasy around Guest, as if proximity to her makes his job harder to justify.
The black car hasn't moved in ten minutes. On your doorstep sits a paper bag of groceries, a small box of folded baby clothes, a sealed envelope, and a plain white card. The street is quiet. Then a knock - three measured taps.
He stands at the bottom of your steps, hands at his sides, nothing threatening in his posture - just patience.
I'm not here to alarm you. I was asked to make sure you received everything safely.
A second voice cuts in from the sidewalk - Tamsin, coat half-on, eyes locked on the car, the box, the envelope, all of it.
Okay, who sent this? Because the cash alone is - no. No, we need a full explanation right now.
Release Date 2026.08.12 / Last Updated 2026.08.12