He closed the distance between us in two long steps. His hands rested on my waist. “You’re full of surprises tonight, amore mio. Don’t keep me waiting.”

I didn’t respond and kept standing there. Later that evening, over dinner, Cassian pushed a sleek black folder across the table.

“The papers are ready,” he said, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. “Sign them, and the brand’s yours. Their designs are ready to ship next week.”

I opened the folder, and read the details briefly before picking up the pen. I signed with a calm demeanor that matched my voice. “Done.”

At that moment, there was a loud popping sound from his phone. He turned his gaze towards it. He was distracted. His focus was everywhere but on me.

“They’re limited edition, you know,” he said absently. His eyes were still fixed on the screen. “You’ll love them. I already told the driver to take you tomorrow. No excuses, Cara.”

“You’ve given me so much, Cassian,” I said, my voice deceptively soft.

He turned his face towards me at my tone, his dark eyes locking on mine. For a moment, the man who ruled the city with an iron fist looked vulnerable.

“You’re my world, Eva,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “If I don’t protect you or spoil you, someone else might think they can take you from me.”

A flicker of guilt passed through me at his words, but it was quickly replaced by the bitterness festering inside.

No one needed to take me away. I was going to leave on my own. For the rest of the evening, Cassian’s focus remained on his phone.

He kept issuing commands, sealing deals, and maintaining his iron grip on the city.

And me? I sat in silence, a faint smile concealed the storm brewing within.

Time was running out. Not for me alone but for both of us. Everything was there but love. We ran out of it, I guess.

His eyes were fixed on the screen of his phone as if he was seeing something amusing.

After looking at him for two long minutes, I finally asked, “Are you still working at home?”

"You used to leave work at the office after coming home," I said, my voice echoing in the silent air.

Cassian Moretti, the infamous head of the Moretti Mafia Family, barely moved his eyes from his phone. He was sitting in his private study. There was a faint glow of the screen highlighting his sharp features.

A simple wedding band was adorning his hand. To be honest, it felt more like a prop these days. The next moment, he hovered over the keypad. Hesitation flickered across his face.

"Things have changed, Eva," he mumbled, his tone sharp. "The family demands more these days.”

He stopped in the middle and glanced up at me. A flicker of guilt crossed his sharp features, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. It was replaced by his usual mask.

“It’s nothing, cara mia,” he replied smoothly and kept the glass down. “Just a little work. Go to bed. I’ll join you soon.”

But I didn’t move. My gaze stopped at the screen of the phone in his hand. For a moment, the screen illuminated with a new message.

It was a single emoji. A crying face. Moreover, I didn't miss the sender's name- Elena Johansson.

Without delay, I turned away and pretended not to notice, and headed towards the bedroom. My steps were slow, but my heart accelerated with the highest speed.

Once I walked inside my bedroom door, I grabbed my phone and logged into the dummy account I’d created weeks ago.

It took me no time to search for the name that had been haunting me for days—Elena Johansson.

She was the social media influencer who used to pretend and had just posted an update.

Her caption was bold, almost defiant:

"Grateful to my man for making dreams come true. The new endorsement deal is signed, sealed, and ready to launch. This exclusive collection? All mine."

The accompanying photo was hers. She was wearing a necklace, unmistakably from the same luxury jewellery brand Cassian had gifted me tonight.

The comments were ruthless.

“Fake. No way she’s the face of that brand.”

“She’s trying too hard. Who’s buying this nonsense?”

“She probably begged some sugar daddy for it.”

But then a sudden comment caught my eye. It was a freshly created account that had interrupted:

“I work with the brand. It’s true. Her boyfriend personally signed the deal. The official shoot begins tomorrow.”

The backlash was immediate. Everyone was accusing her of the account being fake.

But then, as if to stop those people, the account posted a photo of the signed endorsement contract.

At the bottom of the document, was Cassian’s signature.

I forgot to breathe. My body trembled. In no time, I connected the pieces of the puzzle.

From the bathroom, I heard his voice. It was low and commanding, the kind that sent chills down anyone’s spine.

“Last chance for you to make tomorrow’s shoot happen. If it doesn't happen as planned, you’ll answer me. Understand?”

There was a long pause. Then, his tone grew colder.

“Try to double cross again. I’ll make sure you disappear.”

His threats were calculated, and true. Cassian wasn’t a man who wasted words.

When he came out, his gaze locked on mine. His eyes softened, concern was there in his voice.

“Eva? You look pale. Are you all right?”

I forced a weak smile and masked the storm brewing inside me. “Just a headache,” I whispered.

He cupped my cheek, his touch deceptively gentle. “You’ve been crying.”

“It’s nothing,” I murmured. “Go finish your work.”

But he didn’t move. “Tesoro, I don’t care about work if something’s wrong with you. Tell me.”

I lowered my head and whispered, “It’s just a bad dream. That’s all.”

For a moment, Cassian hesitated, then he leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Stop filling your head with nightmares. You’ve got me to protect you. Nothing will hurt you.”

But the pain inside my heart wasn’t a dream. It was real.

After an hour, the loud sound of the main door closing disturbed my peaceful sleep. I didn't give it much thought and wore a black coat just to step out. I was trailing him through the streets.

Cassian stopped in front of a high-rise. It was the kind that was reserved for people who owed their wealth to men like him.

Seconds later, he rang the doorbell. Without delay, it swung open and Elena Johansson was standing in front of him. seconds later,

She was wearing a black silk robe that barely concealed her intentions. She gave a knowing smile.

“Mr. Moretti,” she mumbled. “Thanks for coming. I didn’t think you’d make it.”

Cassian stepped closer, his broad frame covered her. She rubbed her hands on his chest.

“I’ve got a gift for you,” she whispered, her fingers moving with the buttons of his coat. “But you’ll have to unwrap it yourself.”

My nails pierced through my palms as I stood hidden behind the tree. For a second, I forgot to breathe.

Then I sent a single message to the only person I trusted.

“It’s time. Three days. Be ready.”

In no time, my eyes shifted in their direction again. Elena’s delicate, manicured hand slid up Cassian’s sleeve.

Her touch was calculating as she guided his hand to the diamond-studded ribbon at her waist. Her intentions were clear and shameless. A smirk dripping with seduction plastered her lips.

I froze. I wasn't able to breathe as I was drowning deep in that sea of betrayal. My husband, Cassian Moretti, the Mafia Don of the Moretti Mafia Family, whose name was enough to make empires tremble, allowed it.

He let her touch him, let her pull him closer until they moved inside, leaving me there alone.

Meanwhile, I kept standing there. The inner turmoil inside my head was almost bursting.

"Is this how you love me, Cassian?"