The morning sun filtered through the curtains as I reluctantly prepared to face the day.

My mind was a whirlwind of emotions, but I pushed them aside, focusing on the task at hand.

Today, we had to visit the family for brunch to answer uncomfortable questions by the elders.

Funny.

Also, Lucien and I were scheduled to visit the bars under his control.

Translation: He had to show off his wife to his men and do some PDA so that the French bastard would be happy and trust our marriage.

As I stepped into the master bedroom to gather my belongings, the memory of the previous night's events lingered, but I forced myself to stay strong.

They bed was scattered, and the rose petals were crushed, exaggerating the blood on the sheets.

"This is what you chose, Serafina," I reminded myself sternly.

"You brought Eleanor into your home. You have no right to be sad over the situation."

I quickly dressed, selecting an outfit that balanced elegance with authority-a fitted blazer, tailored pants, and heels that added a touch of height.

My hair was styled neatly, and I applied just enough makeup to look polished without appearing overly made up.

I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, drawing strength from the composed image staring back at me.

Leaving the bedroom, I headed toward the kitchen, where the sounds of breakfast preparations drifted down the hall.

As I entered, I saw Lucien and Eleanor working together, their movements synchronized and familiar.

The sight sent a pang through my heart, but I kept my expression neutral.

"Good morning," Eleanor said brightly, acknowledging my presence.

"Good morning," I replied with a polite smile, joining them at the table.

We sat down to eat, the silence heavy but not unbearable.

I focused on the meal, savoring each bite as a distraction from my thoughts.

***

The brunch went well. Thankfully, Grandma Bianca was not present for the brunch.

So it was all the business talks while the other women on the table ate in peace.

Lucien's parents and brother, along with his uncle, Dylan Beauchene, joined us for the brunch.

Dylan is the top enforcer of the French Mafia.

The Beauchene's are just another Mafia family among the others.

But Dylan Beauchene is one of a kind.

Any weapon or transaction that happens in their mafia only happens because Dylan Beauchene lets it happen.

Lucien's brother Salvatore was also present for the brunch. He is blond, just like Lucien, also he looks a lot like him.

But there are two main factors they both differ in- Their eyes and their voices.

While Lucien inherited their father's stormy blue eyes, Salvatore had their mother's hazel eyes.

Lucien sounds more like a predator.

He sounds like the Earth, 4 billion years ago- older , blazing and raw.

It lures in into his orbit, and once you are in his trance, you are goner.

Where as, Salvatore sounds like concrete, corporate, and civil.

He is five years older them me and looks after the front-end businesses like the bars, factories, companies, etc.

Even though he started working later than the others, he still has a solid grip on everything and everyone.

Also, he graduated from the same business school where I am studying currently. He is on the wall of fame of every sector of the college.

As the brunch ended, we bid our farewells to my family and left the Moretti mansion.

As the day turned into night, we visited a few of the Beauchene bars.

This was his world, and now, it was mine, too.

The first bar we entered was dimly lit, filled with the murmur of conversations and the soft clinking of glasses.

Lucien held my hand tightly as he led me through the crowd, explaining the operations and introducing me to key figures.

At one of the more upscale bars, a group of women caught my attention.

They were stunning, dressed to the nines, and exuded an air of superiority.

This was the difference between the wives and the warriors.

Where the Wives were adorned with Cartier, Pandora, and Dior, the Warriors had Heckler and Koch, Beretta, and Lockheed Martin for us.

They were always in the dressed gowns and dresses, whereas, three-piece suites and formal wear were our uniforms.

I quickly recognized a few of them as daughters of influential made men and underbosses.

Their eyes followed us, and as we approached, their expressions turned icy.

"Well, well," one of them drawled, her voice dripping with condescension. "If it isn't the new Mrs. Lucien. I must say, I expected someone... different."

First day of my marriage, and I already wanted to kill people.

I should wait until the honeymoon period ends. How long does it last? 2 months?

Never mind, I'll search that shit on the internet later.

For now, I had to deal with these ladies with the only weapon I have at the moment.

My dragger like tongue.

I met her gaze evenly, a polite smile on my face. "And you are?" I asked, extending my hand.

She ignored my gesture, her eyes flickering to Lucien. "Lucien, darling, couldn't you have done better? She doesn't exactly scream 'power couple.'"

Before Lucien could respond, I leaned in closer to him, placing my hand on his chest. "Oh, he did just fine," I replied smoothly. "After all, he's the one who chose me."

Another woman stepped forward, her eyes scanning me with thinly veiled disdain. "Tell me, Serafina, did you raid a thrift store for that outfit? It's almost quaint."

God, fuck the honeymoon period. Just give me the gun!

I chuckled, not missing a beat. "I see you're into fast fashion. It must be convenient to wear something you can just throw away when it falls apart."

Lucien, sensing the tension, pulled me closer, his hand resting possessively on my waist.

"Ladies, I believe you're mistaken if you think you can disrespect my wife without consequences."

The ringleader rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. "We'll see how long this charade lasts."

I turned to Lucien, my fingers trailing up his arm. "Lucien, darling," I said loudly, making sure they heard every word, "do you remember that wonderful night in Paris? It's amazing how some experiences can be so unforgettable."

I leaned up and kissed him deeply, ensuring it was a display they couldn't ignore. Lucien responded with enthusiasm, his hand sliding down my back, pulling me closer. When we finally broke apart, I turned back to the women, my smile sharp.

"Is there anything else you need, or are you satisfied with making a fool of yourself ? "

Another woman, her face flushed with jealousy, sneered. "Don't think you're anything special. Lulu will get bored, and you'll be just another forgotten accessory. He'll have a mistress soon."

He already has one.

And what the fuck is 'Lulu'.

Imagine Giuseppe Roux saying this, "I hereby pronounce, Lulu Beauchene as the next Capo of the French. May his guidance and light lead the long way for us. Salut la famille Beauchene."

Ew.

I arched an eyebrow, smirking. "If that's what you think, why are you so threatened? Lucy and I are solid, and nothing you say will change that."

I leaned in closer to him, whispering loudly enough for them to hear, "Maybe they need a new hobby. Knitting, perhaps?"

Their faces turned a delightful shade of red, and Lucien, clearly enjoying the show, nuzzled my neck, his lips lingering just below my ear.

"You're amazing, God. I can't wait to be inside you again," he murmured, his voice low and intimate.

The ringleader's face twisted with anger. "This isn't over," she hissed. I shrugged, my smile never wavering.

"Oh, I'm sure it isn't. But for now, why don't you find something more productive to do? Like polishing those tacky heels."

As we continued our tour, I felt a mix of triumph and exhaustion.

I had stood my ground and proved that I wasn't to be underestimated.

Lucien's supportive presence only bolstered my resolve.

This was my life now, and I would face it head-on, no matter what challenges lay ahead.

Back at home, the day's events weighed on me, but I also felt a newfound sense of empowerment.

As we wrapped up our tour of the bars, Perle and I walked back to the car in relative silence.

The events of the day played over in my mind, particularly that kiss she gave me in front of the women who had tried to undermine her.

Her boldness surprised me, but I couldn't deny that it had the desired effect.

She had stood her ground and showed everyone that she was not to be trifled with.

As we got into the car, she turned to me, her expression a mix of apology and uncertainty.

"I'm sorry about the kiss earlier," she said quietly, her eyes searching mine. "I just... I didn't know what else to do them... without violence. "

I chuckled, offering her a reassuring smile. "I don't mind it, Perle. In fact, it's something we have to do, like any other mafia couple. Our public image depends on it."

She nodded, relief evident in her eyes. "People in our world fancy PDA more than drugs, even if it's fake."

Agreed.

We rode the rest of the way home in a comfortable silence, each lost in our own thoughts.

When we arrived back at the house, Eleanor was waiting for us. As soon as she saw us, she threw her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug.

"I've missed you," she murmured, her face buried in my chest. I hugged her back, feeling a pang of guilt as I thought about Serafina.

Over Eleanor's shoulder, I saw Serafina watching us, her expression unreadable.

Eleanor pulled back and turned to Serafina with a bright smile. "I made your favorite Italian food for dinner," she said. "It's a small thank you for everything you've done for us."

Serafina's eyes widened in surprise, and she gave a small, appreciative smile. "Thank you, Eleanor. That's very kind of you."

As we headed into the dining room, I couldn't shake the memory of that kiss.

It had been unexpected, but it hadn't felt forced or awkward.

In fact, it had been filled with a sense of love and cherishment that I hadn't anticipated. I had never expected her to be reserved, to shy away from such displays, but the way she did it, it felt like it held a meaning. It was not just a necessary PDA.

Dinner was a quiet affair, the three of us settling into a tentative routine.

Eleanor had gone out of her way to make the evening special, and I could see that Serafina appreciated the gesture.

Despite the complicated dynamics between us, there was a sense of mutual respect and understanding that made things a little easier.

Later that night, as I lay in bed with Eleanor, my mind kept drifting back to Serafina. The kiss we had shared earlier lingered in my thoughts, a symbol of the strange, unexpected connection that had formed between us.

I had always seen our marriage as a strategic alliance, a way to protect our families and protect our interests.

Until now, we were best friends.

Despite our age gap, we got along really well.

She was a very curious kid back then.

When ever I had less work, I'd go the Moretti estate and play with her and answer her all questions.

But now, being stuck in a marriage with her, feels.... different.

I mean, being in a marriage with someone younger than you is pretty... weird.

But as far as I know, Serafina is into guys older than her.

When she was around seventeen, she was reading this book, which had a character named 'Jonathan King'.

He was forty-five in the book, and she was all giggly over that man.

She said he is so much better than his son, Aiden King, who was 18.

According to her, older guys are much better, and they are reliable.
They also bring a sense of stability and security in the relationship.

She had shown a level of strength and selflessness that I hadn't fully appreciated before, and it made me see her in a new light.

Eleanor stirred beside me, and I glanced down at her, feeling a rush of affection.

She was my heart, the one I had chosen long before any of this had happened.

But now, there was Serafina, too-a woman who had willingly entered into this arrangement for the sake of our families and who had shown nothing but grace and resilience.

As I drifted off to sleep, I resolved to do everything I could to honor both relationships.

To find a way to balance the complexities of our situation and ensure that neither Serafina nor Eleanor felt neglected or unappreciated.

It wouldn't be easy for the sake of our future. It was a challenge I was willing to take on.