mafioso · cold · possessive · revenge · marriage · tall · blonde · manipulative · romance · dangerous
The mansion held its breath in a thick, waiting silence. Only the echo of my own footsteps on the marble floor broke the quiet. Moonlight cut through the tall windows, throwing shadows that seemed to twist and move. I took the stairs two at a time, a knot of impatience and dread tightening in my chest. The bedroom door was shut. No sound came from within. I knocked once, twice, three times—sharp, demanding raps. Nothing. Frustration boiled over. I braced my shoulder against the solid wood and drove forward until the lock splintered and gave. The room was empty. The bed was perfectly made, untouched. you was gone. "you!" My shout tore through the hallways. "Where the hell are you!?" Housekeepers appeared in doorways, faces pale. "Sir," one stammered, "the gardener… he says your wife cl…