THE MAFIA’S ORPHAN WIFE

THE FIRST CRACK

Adrian hadn’t planned to come to the charity gala.

He hated these things. The fake smiles. The champagne that tasted like lies. The way women in designer dresses circled him like sharks the second he walked in.

But his mother called.

"Be there, Adrian. For the company. For me."

And when Isabella Virelli asked, you showed up.

So here he was. Tuxedo. Cold stare. Hand wrapped around a glass he had no intention of drinking.

Until he saw her.

Lanny.

She was in the corner, wearing that stupid black dress the stylist picked. The one that was two sizes too big and made her look like a child playing dress-up. Her hair was pulled back tight. Her hands were shaking.

And across from her was Marco Santori.

Marco. One of his father’s "business partners."

A man with a reputation for touching what wasn’t his and never getting caught.

Lanny was smiling. Nodding. But Adrian knew that smile.

It was the same one she used with him the first week.

The "please don’t hurt me" smile.

Something in Adrian’s chest cracked.

He moved before he thought.

"Miss Lanny." His voice cut through the music.

Both of them turned. Marco’s smile was oily. Lanny’s eyes went wide. Panic.

"Mr. Virelli," Marco said, extending a hand. "Didn’t know you were here."

Adrian didn’t take it. He looked at Lanny instead. Really looked.

Dark circles under her eyes. Lips pressed together. Fingers gripping her clutch so hard her knuckles were white.

"You’re needed," Adrian said. It wasn’t a question.

Lanny blinked. "I— I’m in the middle of—"

"Now."

It was the same tone he used in the boardroom. The tone that made CEOs stutter.

Marco laughed, but it was tight. "She was just telling me about the orphanage. Very touching."

Adrian finally looked at him. Slow. Dead.

"Touch her again and you’ll lose the hand."

The room went quiet.

Marco’s face drained of color. "That’s— that’s a joke, right?"

Adrian didn’t blink. "Try me."

Marco mumbled something and walked away fast.

Silence.

Lanny stood there, staring at him like he’d grown a second head.

"Why did you do that?" she whispered.

Adrian shoved his hands in his pockets. He suddenly felt stupid. Too much. Too angry.

"Because he was making you uncomfortable."

"I was fine."

"You were lying."

Her mouth opened. Closed. "You don’t get to decide that."

"Maybe not." He stepped closer. Lowered his voice so only she could hear.

"But I do get to decide who gets near you. And it’s not him."

Lanny’s breath caught. "You’re supposed to hate me."

"I don’t hate you, Lanny." The words came out rough. Honest.

"I hate that you’re here. I hate that I have to protect you. I hate that when I see someone look at you like that, I want to break their face."

She flinched. "That’s not protection. That’s control."

"Is it?" He tilted his head. "Then why are you still standing here talking to me instead of running?"

Because for the first time, Adrian wasn’t cold.

For the first time, his eyes weren’t empty.

For the first time, he looked... worried.

About her.

Lanny didn’t have an answer. So she did the only thing she could.

She turned and walked away.

But her hands weren’t shaking anymore.

And Adrian watched her go, jaw clenched, wondering when exactly he’d started caring.