It’s just common sense she can’t live here.
“She will visit. Often. And you...” He jabbed the paper toward me. “You will welcome her with respect. Treat her with dignity and admiration. Hurt her, and there will be consequences—severe ones.”
“What the... hell,” I snapped before I could stop myself, defiance flaring in my chest like a live wire.
In an instant, he moved—faster than my brain could register.
One fluid, terrifying motion, and he was back in my space.
He bent down, his fingers clamping around my chin like iron, lifting my face until our eyes locked.
His warm, commanding breath brushed my lips—but there was nothing tender.
Only danger.
“You obey,” he said, each word sharp enough to cut glass. “Not question. Not deny. Not wonder.”
He leaned in closer, letting the words sink in like weight.
“Let me be clear. In this house, no one speaks out of turn. No one disrespects me. But my men know this—disrespect Violet, and you disrespect me. That is your fate. Every time she comes here, you will ensure she is happy. No excuses. No failures.”
I tried to jerk my chin free.
His fingers only tightened, the pressure sharpening into pain.
Panic flared, adrenaline spiking.
Only when I stopped struggling did he release me, straightening to his full height again.
The imprint of his fingers lingered on my skin, searing like fire, a mark I couldn’t ignore.
“The chefs are at your disposal,” he said, his voice shifting almost seamlessly
“The cleaners, the drivers—everyone. Ciro, my second-in-command, and Renzo, my third, will provide anything you require. They will treat you with the respect owed to my wife.”
I blinked, trying to process the weight of it all.
He let the silence stretch.
“The safety you crave,” he continued, voice almost seductive in the way it coiled around my fear, “is right here. Under my roof. As long as you remain my wife, no one touches you. Your needs will be met. Your protection will be absolute.”
I exhaled shakily, the promise of protection mingling with the sharp sting of his control.
My pulse throbbed in my ears, each beat a reminder of how utterly trapped I was.
“Before I leave you to adjust yourself to this new reality—to this house, to being my wife—there are three red lines I have drawn for you. One of them you must never, ever cross.”
His voice dropped, low and deliberate, each word heavy with warning.
My chest constricted.
“One,” he said, voice absolute.
“You must never attempt to escape from me. Elena, do not even think about it. I do not give a fuck if you are CIA,NSA, or the goddamn President’s personal assassin.”
His grip tightened on my chin, forcing my head back further, just enough to make the warning sink deeper.
“I rule territories that stretch from Sicily to the northern Alps. My reach is longer, deeper, and more ruthless than you could ever imagine.”
