The silence in the car was thicker than usual, the kind that curled up in your chest and made it hard to breathe.

I glanced at Alex’s hands on the wheel. He wasn’t gripping it hard, but there was a tightness to him like he was holding something back. I didn’t know if it was nerves or control. Maybe both.

We were married now.

In a courthouse, with no vows, no rings, just a paper and a signature.

And still, it felt like something irreversible had just shifted between us.

When he parked outside the house, I didn’t move at first. Neither did he.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked, turning slightly toward me.

“About what?”

“Everything that comes next.”

I let out a breath. “Sure. But maybe not now.”

He nodded and got out. This time, he didn’t just open my door, he reached for my hand. I let him take it.

Inside, the house smelled like cedarwood and something warm I couldn’t name. Familiar, yet not the same. Everything felt heavier now, like the walls knew what we’d done.

Alex walked ahead, tossing his keys into the bowl by the door. I followed him into the kitchen, watching him move.

He poured two glasses of water and leaned back against the counter.

“I need to tell you a few things,” he said, voice low.

I nodded.

“This marriage on paper, it gives you protection. You’re mine now, in the eyes of everyone who matters. Dan won’t come near you again.”

That part I already knew.

“But,” he continued, rubbing a hand down the back of his neck, “you’re gonna have to meet my family. Sooner than later. They’ll want to see us together as a real happy couple.”

I swallowed. “You mean... pretending?”

His eyes found mine. “Yeah. But if you ever feel uncomfortable with anything, say the word. I won’t ask you to do something you can’t handle.”

I looked down at the glass in my hands, the coolness pressing into my palms. “So... how do we make it look real?”

He paused. “We share a room.”

My heart thudded.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he added quickly. “I’ll take the couch, or the floor, or—”

“Stop,” I said, softer than I meant to. “You don’t have to protect me from this.”

Our eyes locked. Something passed between us then, like a current of everything we hadn’t said.

“You’re not scared of me?” he asked.

“No. I’m scared of how much I want to trust you.”

His throat moved as he swallowed. “You can.”

I nodded, then set the glass down and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the bedroom. My heart pounded with every step. I didn’t know what I was doing. All I knew was that I wanted him close.

And maybe, just maybe, I wanted to stop feeling like I was always on the edge of something sharp.

He followed after a moment.

Inside the room, the air shifted. It was darker here, quieter. The bed looked too big for one person, but maybe just right for two newlyweds.

I sat on the edge, fingers tangled in the hem of my dress.

Alex stood by the door. Watching. Waiting.

“I don’t know how to be someone’s wife,” I whispered.

“I don’t know how to be someone’s husband,” he replied.

We both laughed, nervous and low.

Then he crossed the room.

When he reached me, he knelt, actually knelt between my knees.

His hands were gentle on my thighs, and his voice was even gentler.

“You don’t owe me anything, Millie. But if you want this if you want me I’m right here.”

God, how did he do that? Make me feel like I could choose when the world had taken every choice away?

I touched his face. Lightly. Just my fingers along his jaw.

And then I leaned forward and kissed him.

It wasn’t like the courthouse kiss.

This one was slower. Deeper. More dangerous.

His mouth moved against mine like he’d been starving and I was the only thing he could taste. His hands slid to my hips, pulling me closer, and I felt his control start to unravel.

When I tugged his shirt over his head, he let me. His skin was warm, his scars hard beneath my palms. He kissed me again so deeply it made my toes curl and I melted into him.

We didn’t rush.

It was like we were both afraid we’d break whatever this was.

But piece by piece, we undressed each other.

He whispered my name like a prayer. I said his like it was the only truth I had.

And when he finally moved above me, his forehead pressed to mine, everything else faded. No mafia. No past. Just him. Just me.

His touch was slow. Careful. Devoted, even when it trembled.

I wasn’t used to being touched like this with reverence, with want, with restraint. It made my chest ache in a way I didn’t have words for.

We didn’t speak. We didn’t need to.

Our bodies talked for us when he leaned into me with soft pressure and joined himself to me.

Alex was so gentle to the touch. Just like before, he knew how to make me feel included and loved in evey part.

I moaned as he continued to rock my body, holding my breasts gently as he did while I clutched his muscular arms with ine hand and the sheets with the other. The pleasure was exciting. Every moment was passionate.

When it was over, when we lay tangled in the sheets and I rested my head against his chest, he wrapped his arm around me and just held me.

“You okay?” he asked again, voice barely audible.

“Yeah,” I said. And this time, I wasn’t lying.

But just before sleep could take me, Alex murmured something that snapped my eyes wide open.

“My father… he’s going to want to meet you.”

I blinked. “Okay?”

“And my mother,” he added, voice tighter now. “She doesn’t like just anyone.”

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because when they find out I married someone they don’t know... things might get messy.”

“How messy?”

He looked at me in the dark, his eyes more shadow than light.

“They might even try to take you from me.”

My jaw dropped.