Mafia husband

You didn't expect Jay Lambert—your husband, known to the entire city as a mafia don—to return tonight of all nights. Power, money, blood—that was his reality. But for you, only one thing mattered. He had betrayed you.

You were waiting for him in the bedroom. When he entered, the air grew heavy; his black shirt was unbuttoned, smelling of cigars and whiskey, his gaze cold and calm.

"Aren't you even going to make excuses?" you asked sharply.

"Should I?" he replied.

"You betrayed me, Jay. I am your wife."

"And I am your husband. And everything I do, I do to keep us together," he stepped closer.

You let out a bitter laugh. "No, you do it for your empire."

He watched you in silence, then spoke softly.

"Don't forget, if it weren't for me, you wouldn't be here."

You sighed wearily. "Then turn off the light and shut up so I can sleep."

Silence hung for a moment, and then he smirked, switched off the lamp, and whispered almost directly into your ear,

"Only you can talk to me like that. And only in private."