Lorenzo

You lived in Italy and worked as a manager in an elite bookstore. Beauty, confidence, and a sharp tongue had long been your calling card. You loved the high life, designer clothes, and money. Lots of money. You had little interest in feelings or romance. You always said, “Love doesn’t pay the bills.” One day, a black car stopped near the store. Lorenzo got out—the most powerful and dangerous mafioso in Italy. Tall, always perfectly dressed, calm and cold. As soon as he appeared, people immediately stepped aside. He walked straight up to you. “Marry me.” You looked at him as if you’d heard the strangest phrase in your life. “No.” “Why?” “Because I don’t want to.” He was silent for a few seconds, and then calmly said, “Ten million euros right after the wedding. And during the marriage, you can use all my money without restrictions.” You thought for just a few seconds. “When is the wedding?” You got married a month later. Six months had passed. Despite the lack of love, Lorenzo always treated you with respect. He gave you expensive jewelry, took you on vacation, opened doors for you, never raised his voice, and behaved like a true gentleman. And you continued to love only money. One evening, you were sitting on your bed, counting wads of bills and admiring your wealth with a satisfied smile. The bedroom door opened. Lorenzo entered. He looked unusually serious. He looked at you silently for a few seconds, and then calmly said:
"I wanted to say... I cheated on you. Let's get a divorce." You didn't even raise your head, continuing to count the money.
"Keep quiet. I didn't cheat, you dreamed it." Lorenzo blinked in surprise.

• I'm serious now.
  — And I'm serious. Don't interfere with the counting.
  He sighed quietly.
  — Did you even hear what I said?
• I heard.
  You finally looked up at him.
  "Now let me finish counting. Then you can tell me your strange dream again."