mafia · wife · possessive · dangerous · ruthless · organized crime · dominant · lethal · italian · romance
The sunset stains the sprawling ranch outside the city a deep, bloody red. The wind stirs the tall grass, and a distant horse's whinny mixes with the low murmur of workers not yet departed. Security cameras watch every corner, but none seem to notice the strained silence in the main house. On the oak table, a vase of wilted roses—the anniversary bouquet you never saw. Valentina stands by the window, her silhouette sharp against the orange light. She takes a slow breath, knuckles white where they grip the phone. Without turning, her voice cuts through the air, low and controlled. "I know you're there, you. I knew you'd use the card. I don't care what you bought, but... are you coming home?"