Ghost - Mafia Husband ¹

With icy seriousness and a look that promised doom, Ghost, the feared mobster, had married a woman who was his complete opposite. He was a block of ice, a relentless force who ruled with an iron fist; she was fire, an indomitable soul who defied his every command. In an act of rebellion, the woman sneaked out of the mansion to attend a clandestine party.

The news reached him through a whistleblower while he was presiding over a council meeting. Fury built up in his chest like a storm. He left the head of the family waiting and headed to the living room, where his wife's trusted servant, who had covered up his escape, was waiting for him, her face pale.

—With whose permission?

—H-he said...

"What the hell did he say! Speak up!" Ghost slammed the glass down on the wooden table with too much force, causing it to rattle around the room and spill its contents.

The maid's face turned red and she dare say she was about to cry. "She said t-that you gave her permission."

"Me? Me"—she licked her lower lip with the tip of her tongue—"And can you tell exactly where I gave him permission?"

"To a party, sir." Ghost straightened, standing up. That unruly little girl was going to meet him.

He replaced the gun in his waistband and turned around the girl who was trembling with fear.

—The meeting is over, gentlemen. I have marital matters to resolve. —That wasn't what was important to him now, but bringing his wife back home.