I woke up before Alex did. His arm was still slung over my waist, heavy and warm. For a second, I just stared at him. His face was calm in sleep, the hard lines softened. He looked nothing like the cold, violent man the world feared. He looked…safe.

But that was the thing. I had felt safe once before. And it had almost killed me.

Slipping out from under his arm, I padded into the kitchen. I needed space. Air. Something to remind me this was real and not another trap dressed up as salvation.

The Morales name carried weight. And that weight was already pressing on my chest.

Yesterday's dinner with his family still played on a loop in my mind. The tight smiles. The veiled comments. The way they looked at me like I was a bomb ticking under their son’s ribs.

And maybe I was.

I tied my robe a little tighter and tried to push it all down. But it clung to me, that doubt. That feeling that I didn’t belong here. That I had stepped into someone else’s world and everyone was just waiting for me to fall apart.

Alex came into the kitchen shirtless, hair tousled, eyes heavy with sleep. “You always this quiet in the morning?”

“Just thinking,” I muttered, pouring coffee.

He leaned against the counter and studied me. “About last night?”

“About everything.”

He nodded, rubbing a hand down his face. “I need to take you to meet a few people today. Ones that matter in my world. You’ll need to smile. Say nothing unless spoken to. And stick by me, always.”

“That sounds…warm and welcoming.”

He chuckled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You married a Mafia boss, Millie. This isn’t breakfast in the suburbs.”

“Right,” I said softly, sipping the bitter coffee.

“Do you regret it?” he asked suddenly.

I looked up at him. “Do you?”

His jaw flexed. “No. But I need you to know what’s coming.”

“Which is?”

“Rules. Power plays. Eyes on you every second. You can wear what you want but you can never go anywhere alone. And if anyone from my family makes you uncomfortable, you tell me. Immediately.”

“So much for love and trust,” I muttered.

“Well this isn’t exactly a love story, Millie,” he said. “This is survival.”

That should have made me sad. But in some twisted way, it made sense. I had to survive and that meant abiding by Alex’s rules.

We dressed in silence. I chose a high-neck black dress with long sleeves, something sleek and simple. I looked like someone I didn’t fully recognize in the mirror. Someone more polished, more powerful. Or maybe just more hidden.

By noon, we were driving through narrow city streets, moving deeper into territory I didn’t recognize. Men in black stood at corners, watching us pass like we were some kind of royalty. Or maybe bait.

Alex’s phone buzzed once. He glanced at it and swore under his breath.

“What?”

“My cousin Mateo,” he said, eyes narrowed. “He’s been poking around the docks. Trying to start something.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because chaos benefits the ambitious.”

I swallowed hard. I remembered Mateo’s slick smile at the family dinner. The way his eyes had crawled over me like he was already planning something.

We parked outside a private building with mirrored windows. Inside, I met two of Alex’s trusted men. I remembered the bigger man from my first encounter with Alex at the alley when I ran away from home. He was called Javi, broad shouldered with a scar running from his brow to his cheek. That scar wasn't there when we met. I wondered what kind of danger he got himself into and the kind that Alex faced.

The other man was Elias. He was lean, sharp-eyed, and far too quiet.

They nodded at me politely but said nothing more. Alex gave them a brief rundown of our “marriage arrangement,” which they seemed to accept without question. But I could feel the scrutiny. The way they both kept glancing at me like I was another complication they’d have to clean up one day.

Later that evening, back at Alex’s home, I sat on the couch while he took a call in the next room. The fire was low. Shadows danced across the walls. Everything felt too quiet again.

Until it wasn’t.

A sharp crack split the air.

I jumped to my feet. “Alex?”

He was already moving toward me, gun drawn. “Upstairs. Now.”

“What is it?”

“Window, west side. Someone’s watching the house.”

My blood ran cold. “Who?”

“I don’t know yet.”

I followed him upstairs, heart pounding. He opened a drawer, pulled out a small black box, and handed it to me.

“What’s this?”

“A panic device. You press this, Javi and Elias will come. Fast.”

The tension in his voice made it real.

“Do you think it’s Dan?”

“We can't know for sure”

We stood in the dark hallway, eyes locked.

I opened my mouth to ask more, but a knock sounded at the front door. I heard theee slow and deliberate taps.

Alex’s face changed. His jaw locked. His eyes darkened.

“No one knows this address,” he said.

He moved downstairs, gun raised. I followed quietly, panic rising in my throat.

The knock came again.

And then a voice. Calm. Measured.

“Alex. It’s Mateo. Thought we should talk.”

Alex froze.

So did I.

Not because of the voice. But because of the shadow behind him.

A second figure stood just out of sight on the porch. Tall and lean.

And even in the dim light, I recognized him.