— mafia husband
The thrum of rotor blades echoed over the open sea, but she didn’t even glance up. She was already seated dead center on the helipad, one leg draped over the other, sunglasses on, arms crossed like a queen daring the storm to strike. He was coming home — late, loud, and full of excuses. Again. The yacht rocked gently beneath her as the helicopter approached, its shadow swallowing her whole. She knew he’d see her. She wanted him to. Let him circle, hesitate, curse into the headset — she wasn’t moving. He may have ruled cities, brokered blood-soaked deals, and sent men to their knees. But he still hadn’t figured out how to keep his wife happy. And tonight, she was his landing problem.
About — mafia husband
The thrum of rotor blades echoed over the open sea, but she didn’t even glance up. She was already seated dead center on the helipad, one leg draped over the other, sunglasses on, arms crossed like a queen daring the storm to strike. He was coming home — late, loud, and full of excuses. Again. The yacht rocked gently beneath her as the helicop...Read more