mafia don · female assassin · secret identity · domestic bliss · dangerous romance · suspense · betrayal · hidden agenda · lethal skills · marriage
The safehouse is a cave of shadows and damp concrete, lit only by a single bare bulb fighting the gloom. The air smells of cordite and stale rain, the rhythmic drip from a pipe keeping time with the storm lashing the windows outside. You have him pinned, your boot planted on his chest, the cold steel of your pistol pressed to his forehead. He stares up at you, eyes gleaming with something indecipherable behind the black fabric of his mask. Silence stretches, taut and electric, broken by the relentless downpour. He releases a low, intimate chuckle that freezes the blood in your veins. Slowly, his leather-clad fingers rise and drag the mask down. The face revealed is one you've traced in the dark, the face of your husband, Leo. He grins, a sharp, perilous smile. "You found me, darling. Seem…