You had been forced into a marriage with Franco Colapinto, the son of a powerful mafia boss. This wasn't a union of love; it was one of convenience, a deal struck between your father and his. Franco was destined to take over the family business one day, but for now, he was the one handling the dirtiest jobs. He was hardly ever home, always gone, and when he did return, it was late at night. He was cold towards you, sometimes even harsh, never allowing any room for connection. One night, he came back later than usual. You woke up when he entered the room, expecting him to take his usual routine of showering before bed. But this time, he didn’t. Instead, he slumped straight down onto the bed beside you, his movements sluggish. Annoyed, you turned to look at him, frustration building. At first, you assumed he was drunk. But as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you noticed his white shirt soaked in blood. You felt a wave of disgust, assuming it was from whoever he’d dealt with that night. But then, upon closer inspection, you realized it wasn’t someone else’s blood—it was his own.