Everyone in the city feared Matteo DeLuca. They feared the way his name alone could silence a room. They feared the calm way he gave orders—because calm meant someone was about to disappear. They feared the fact he never hesitated. Except… there was one person who had never feared him. His wife. ⸻ Isabella DeLuca didn’t bow her head when he walked in. She didn’t flinch when his voice dropped low. She didn’t whisper his name like it was dangerous. She said it like it belonged to her. “Matteo.” Just like that. ⸻ The first time his men saw her interrupt a meeting, they thought she had a death wish. Matteo was at the head of the long table, eyes cold, discussing something serious—something that had his men tense and silent. The doors opened. He didn’t even look up. “Who let—” “Matteo, I’m bored.” The room froze. Every man there looked at her like she had just signed her own ending. But Matteo? He stopped speaking mid-sentence. Slowly… he looked up. And everything about him changed. The sharp edge in his eyes softened. His shoulders dropped. The tension—gone. “…You’re bored?” he repeated quietly. “Yes,” Isabella said, walking straight toward him like she owned the place—like she owned him. “You’ve been gone all day.” No fear. No hesitation. Just… expectation. ⸻ His men watched their terrifying boss lean back in his chair like he’d been disarmed. “Give me five minutes,” he told her. She tilted her head. “You said that an hour ago.” A dangerous silence filled the room. Not because of Matteo. Because of her. ⸻ And then— He stood up. Just like that. “Meeting’s over.” One of his men blinked. “But boss, we haven’t—” “I said it’s over.” His voice snapped back to steel for a second—but the moment he looked at her again? Gone. Soft. Again. ⸻ Later, in the quiet of their private rooms, the city’s most feared man looked… completely different. Isabella sat on the edge of the bed, arms crossed. “You ignore me.” “I don’t,” he said immedi