“Eliza, all the information we could get is here.”

Inside the car, Paulo handed me a thick stack of files. The data was pitifully sparse, but then, this was probably all Mark wanted me to see.

Lillian White was nineteen years old, ten years younger than Mark. Her parents were both dead, and she had grown up in an orphanage in Palermo. Her social connections were simple and limited.

“The Don treats her… differently,” Paulo murmured in my ear.

Could it be that Lillian was Mark’s true love?

I bit my nails, lost in thought. Mark had clawed his way to where he was now. By this point, he had no weak spots. He was young, ruthless, and brilliant. I had watched him build his family into the empire it was today, so I wasn’t sure whether seeking revenge on him was right or wrong.

It was right because I had become his confidante, trusted as deeply as his own underboss.

It was wrong because I hadn’t anticipated how rapidly his power would grow, making revenge far harder than I had imagined.

“The Don said…” Paulo patted my shoulder and said, “He wants your risotto.”

If Mark wanted it, I had no choice but to cook.

I told the driver, “Turn around. Let’s go.”

The villa where Lillian lived was just one of Mark’s many properties—ordinary compared to the rest. The place I was heading to was his true home, a quietly luxurious cliffside estate.

I carried the ingredients inside alone, preparing to cook and simmer the broth. Mark had surely eaten at countless Michelin-starred restaurants, so why would he like my cooking? Yet every time I cooked, he would stand at the kitchen doorway, eyes locked on me. That gaze was exactly like a husband waiting for his wife to return home. Every time I thought of it, my stomach churned.

This time, I was slicing onions when he appeared silently behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I hadn’t noticed him at all.

“Don’t touch me. My hands are dirty,” I said instinctively.

He chuckled softly, resting his chin in the hollow of my shoulder, his breath brushing my ear. “Oh? Dirty? Let me see.”

I ignored him and turned on the faucet. He naturally took my fingers in his hand, washing them with practiced ease.

Just as I was about to say something, his lips rained over my neck in a slow, teasing flurry.

I was dizzy from his kiss. Unintentionally, our eyes met, and in those deep, dark orbs, fragments of starlight shimmered. Even his smile carried a dangerous charm.

I lowered my gaze and finally pushed him away.

“Are you angry?” He pinched my cheek, his tone teasing. “I missed your birthday, and now you’re a little hissing cat?”

“You’re the cat…” I couldn’t help snapping back.

However, he nuzzled the side of my neck with his nose. “You’re a crazy, fierce, and stubborn woman, and yet, you fascinate me.”

Before I could respond, he lifted me onto the marble countertop and bent down to kiss me again.

The broth on the stove was still bubbling, but he kissed with urgency and intensity. My breath came in quick, shallow gasps as I clutched his jacket tightly. When he finally let go, a smile lingered in his eyes, but there was no trace of desire.

“Do you know why I brought Lillian back with this wound?”

He pulled out a photograph and handed it to me. I took it, and my eyes widened instantly. It was a photo of me with my fiancé.

“Eliza, don’t you think it’s funny?” He whispered in my neck, his warm breath brushing my skin. “Lillian said she’s met you. She called you Ms. Anderson. Anderson… What a familiar name, isn’t it?”

He leaned down and kissed the tip of my nose. “Baby, aren’t you going to explain?”

My heart skipped a beat, but my face stayed calm. The broth on the stove continued to bubble.

Back when I had to go undercover, I forged a backstory that my family had gone bankrupt, and I had nowhere to turn, so I came under Mark’s protection. Now, my identity was secure, and I couldn’t let panic show.

Once I steadied myself, I lowered my gaze and stared at the photo. Then, I smiled and gently tapped him on the chest.

“Are you jealous, Mark?”

He said nothing.

I turned, keeping my tone casual. “It’s just a photo. It doesn’t mean anything. Or… are you doubting me?”

He looked down at me, eyes dark and piercing, and suddenly pinned me against the countertop.

“Is that so? Eliza… you’re not lying to me, are you?”

I was pressed against the kitchen counter, feeling my back dampen with cold sweat.

Fighting down the unease, I forced a smile at him. “Of course. I love you. I would never lie to you.”

He studied me quietly, lost in thought. I knew this man, when deeply suspicious, could at any moment pick up a gun and end my life. Then, unexpectedly, he let out a soft chuckle, his hand grazing my waist with a measured, almost casual pressure.

“Indeed,” he murmured. “It’s just a photo together… It doesn’t really prove anything.”

He released me, his smile light and effortless. He even picked up a ladle to stir the broth in the pot.

“Dinner’s ready, isn’t it? I’m hungry, Eliza,” he said, his gaze locked on me.

“Food’s ready. Just wait a moment.” I straightened my clothes, nodding. Only when my fingertips brushed the hem did I notice how soaked my back had become from the cold sweat.

During that meal, I chewed mechanically. Truthfully, every day with Mark felt the same, and I never truly tasted anything. My mind was always consumed with thoughts of dragging him down into hell for the sake of my family who had died.

That thought was driving me to the brink of madness until his relaxed voice cut through my spiraling thoughts.

“Eliza, a new shipment is arriving at the Port of Genoa tomorrow. You’ll handle it personally.”

I lifted my gaze over the spread of dishes and looked at him across the table.

“The buyer is cautious. Go alone. Don’t bring anyone with you.”

I froze for a moment, instinctively asking, “What kind of shipment is it?”

He met my eyes, a faintly enigmatic smile curling at his lips. I immediately understood that I wasn’t meant to know.

Mark had always been like that. Even with me, every move was guarded. It was why, after six years, I still hadn’t avenged my family.

I nodded and picked up my bag. “Alright, I’ll head out then. Tomorrow–”

As I passed him, he caught my wrist.

“What’s distracting you today?” His fingers traced the pulse point of my wrist, not letting go.

I forced a wry smile. “I handled a traitor betraying the family this afternoon. I might be a little tired from that.”

He said nothing, but he didn’t release me either. The room fell silent. I could feel the warmth of his fingertips against my skin, brushing over me slowly, deliberately.

“Baby… stay tonight, okay?” His voice softened.

I instinctively tried to refuse. “No, I still have–”

Before I could finish, he yanked me into his arms. He pressed me against the dining table, and before I could react, his lips were on my neck, his kiss carrying an almost violent possessiveness.

The dim lights flickered, and in my panic, I looked up at his eyes. There it was, an uncontrollable desire, and a terrifying kind of madness.