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I am not a man who makes mistakes. My judgment and intuition have served me well for years. They have gotten me to this point in my life. So how did they fail me when it came to my wife’s safety? How did I not see the signs?

I do my cufflinks up and look at myself in the mirror. The suit is perfectly tailored to my body. My hair is gelled back, and I am freshly shaven for the gala. My dark brown eyes are darkened with worry of what is to come next. The war’s brewing in the background; I can feel it. All the other families are on high alert, waiting to see what happens next.

Tonight, I need to be seen. The gala is more than just an event, it’s a message. I need to remind everyone in the room who I am. Word traveled fast about what happened to Maria, and Iknow they are looking at me as weak. The great Matteo Davacalli hassled by a man who is meant to be more of a cockroach than an adversary. But that all ends tonight. They need to see my wife and I as a strong and unified front.

I am so lost in my own world that I don’t hear Maria come up behind me. Her sweet scent of vanilla wafts into my nostrils, drawing me back to the closet.

“Are you okay?” She comes to stand beside me, looking like perfection.

Christo santo. Jesus Christ.

She is a vision. Her beauty surpasses any woman I have ever laid eyes on in my life.

She is dressed in emerald silk that drapes over her body like a second skin; she is a walking temptation, a carefully crafted weapon. The slit in her dress teases glimpses of smooth, golden skin, and her lips—painted in a soft, sinful red—dare me to claim them.

Something in the center of my chest stirs, and I have to push back the need to pin her against this glass and have my way with her. We won’t ever leave our home if I indulge my greed.

“Yeah,” I say through the lump that has formed in my throat. I turn, taking a step closer, trailing my fingers along the exposed skin of her back. She shivers, her breath catching for half a second before she composes herself.

I love the way her body always reacts to me. It fills me with pride to know that I am the only man who has ever made her feel like this. And that I am the only man who ever will.

The heat that passes from my hand to her back intensifies the hunger within me. My eyes swoop over her lightly done face. Her lips part ever so slightly as my hand moves lower to sit on the top curve of her ass.

“Amore,” I murmur, my voice low.

She meets my gaze, her hazel eyes holding a flicker of amusement. “Matteo,” she returns, tilting her head to the side.

I smirk. I love how free and comfortable she is with me now. After the hospital, I was unsure of how this would all play out. I didn’t want her to question my intentions—to question my feelings for her. But as the days have passed, I can feel us just going from strength to strength.

“You look handsome.”

“And you look ravishing.” I dip my head low with every intention of connecting my lips to hers, but she presses her fingers to my lips.

“I have lipstick on, and I don’t want it to smudge.” She laughs when I lick her fingers, and she immediately retracts her hand. “Ew, Matteo. That’s gross.”

“You didn’t think it was gross when you were choking on my cock this morning.”

She blushes. “Please stop.”

“Never.” I give her ass a little light tap and she shakes her head with a blinding smile on her lips.

I pull her in so she is flush against me. I feel her warmth against mine, and the blood rushes down to my groin. When it comes to her, I am insatiable—I will never get enough of her.

“You look divine, amore.” I kiss her cheek instead to save her lipstick from being ruined. I watch the blush deepen in her cheeks before she dips her head low. “This color is made for you.”

She rolls her eyes at my playfulness. She’s one of the few who can bring out this side of me—the one that doesn’t live inside his burdens.

I let my hand linger on her back a moment longer, savoring her warmth before stepping away. “We need to leave before I start to do the things my mind keeps thinking up.”

She nods. “Yeah, we don’t want to be late.”

I offer her my hand, and she interlaces our fingers together. We walk out hand in hand into the shark-infested waters that are the gala. If this wasn’t necessary, I’d have kept her far away. But certain things cannot be avoided in this world.

We walkinto the grand hall arm in arm after a long drive from our building. My wife squeezes my arm tightly as all eyes move to us. The soft violins serve as backdrop music as the crowd becomes nothing more than hushed murmurs.

I look over the sea of people, making sure to eye every single one of the men who dared think me weak. I didn’t get all the way to the top by simply lying down. If they’ve forgotten who I am, tonight will be their brutal reminder. My roots run deep in this city; I cannot easily be taken down.

“It’s going to be a long night,” my wife mutters as I usher her into the battleground.