Harry has often wondered how long he would reign as Capo, how long he has of this lifetime. Being a Made Man is unpredictable enough, but becoming Capo gives you a fat red wanted sign everywhere you go.

He often contemplates what his life would be like if he hadn't been raised into such a family, if he was born to other people, or if his father was still alive – would his life be any different?

His mind tends to wander this way quite regularly. But before he can ever allow himself to divulge into the what ifs, he's always very rudely brought back to reality. Maybe it's the universe telling him to grow up.

There is no alternative, there is no other life. This is who he is and who he will always be. The only escape from this life is death.

The gentle tapping on the door pulls Harry's attention back to the matter at hand. Brian closes the door behind him as he enters the office, hands on his hips with a hint of frustration in his eyes.

That look is not something Harry wants nor needs today. "What is it?" He asks, sitting back in his chair now. Brian sighs, slightly gnawing on his bottom lip.

He's never once been afraid to relay bad news to Harry. However, as of recently, he's begun to grow a little feeling in the pit of his stomach whenever it has something to do with his wife and her family.

"It's Nino." His words automatically get Harry's back up and he's quickly on high alert as he leans forward.

"He's trying to move the wedding forward. I don't know what's happened but it's happening. At the end of July."

Harry freezes. It can only mean one thing if Nino is planning to wed Maria at the end of next month. He's up to something, and Harry gets the feeling he needs to start watching his back a little more than usual.

He curses under his breath. "Who authorised this?"

"Dante. I'm surprised you didn't hear this from him."

Harry shakes his head. "Dante would've never approved this. He and I have the same hatred for these fucking things."

Brian hums, pursing his lips. "He would if Nino told him he's concerned for Maria's safety. That her father is abusing her."

Harry's blood boils. Nino doesn't care for the girl, and surely Dante is more than aware of this. It makes him sick to his stomach, like Nino is waving his and Y/N's situation in his face. He doesn't know much longer he can take his cousin's psychotic behaviours.

Harry dismisses Brian, tells him to keep a close eye on Nino until they can figure something out.

His mind can only think of Y/N. He can't handle the tears she'll cry or the guilt that eats away at him for not stopping this from happening. They're in a good place right now — as good as can be for their situation and he doesn't need anything fucking that up right now.

Maybe that's why Harry doesn't hesitate to call her straight away and inform her of the news. This isn't something he wishes to hide from her — he can't. As much as it might pain him, she needs to know what's going on.

"Hey," her breathy voice answers through the line. It pulls on his heartstrings for a brief moment, something that tends to keep happening to Harry when he's around her.

It's something he can't seem to get used to.

"How are you darling?" He asks softly, hopes to ease the blow with a little small talk but he knows it's pointless. She probably sees right through him, he's sure. Y/N has always analysed his every word and movement, something out of fear she learnt from her father.

He can almost hear her frown down the line. "What's wrong? You never call when you're working." She's not wrong. Harry likes to keep his head focused when handling business. He's never called when he's been working before, only if it's an emergency. Usually, he'll send a text or two and that'll be all.

She's right to think something is wrong and Harry sighs. "Nino has pushed the wedding forward." Blunt and straight to the point — just like the knife he feels like he's just shoved in Y/N's heart.

She's silent on the line, nothing but a shaky breath to be heard. Harry holds his own, eyes pinched shut tight. He knows it's incredibly selfish of him, but all he can think right now is how to make sure this doesn't affect their progress.

"When?" Her soft voice whimpers.

Harry clears his throat. "End of July."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

His eyes widen. Oh. He's never heard such a word come from that pretty little mouth before. Her tone is harsh and angry, and there's something in Harry that warns him to tread very carefully.

"Y/N," he gulps. "I had nothing to do with this. He went straight to Dante and didn't give him much choice."

Harry chooses his words carefully, his tone honest and cautious. He remains silent as he waits for a reply, never once being rendered speechless before. But Harry is in shock. She's just sworn at him, in such a venomous tone.

If it wasn't due to such a sensitive matter, Harry would have a raging hard on. Well, that's a lie. He does have a raging hard on, despite the dooming situation at hand.

"Harry, that's five weeks away. How are we going to stop this?" She's whimpering now, that momentary anger fizzling to dread and heartache.

"I'm still going to try," he reassures her.

It's not a complete lie. While Harry's efforts to delay or cancel the wedding are futile, the least he can do is try. Both Harry and Y/N may have gotten lucky with their arrangement, but the same won't ever be said for Maria.

"Listen, I've got to head to the club and sort out some stuff. I'll call Dante and see if we can work around this, okay?"

She hums, not convinced but understands that his hands are tied. Harry huffs as he ends the call and stuffs his phone in his pocket.

Catching a glimpse of his hardened crotch, he ponders over the idea for a moment. He's got ten minutes to spare, right? It wouldn't be the first time he's tugged one out in his office.

His eyes flutter closed for a second and all he can see is her. Naked beneath him like she was just a week ago; her legs spread and pussy glistening.

Oh God, it awakens something feral within him. Her small whines and moans as she came over his tongue. Her pebbled nipples when he nipped across her thigh and sucked her clit.

Harry feels warm, chest beginning to heave gently. His breathing becomes shallow the more he allows himself to reminisce on the moment.

It's when his hand begins to reach for his covered cock that his office door swings open and he's harshly torn away from his fantasy. He's going to shoot someone at this point.

"What?!"

His snappy voice earns a dirty look from Brian as he peeks in the door. "Car's outside."

Harry sighs, hands rubbing across his face as if that'll wipe away the sheer arousal he's feeling.

//

The stench of the club's office always makes Harry heave, something that no matter how many times he's complained, never gets sorted. And he knows it's nothing to do with the girls. It's the shifty manager that likes to tug one out mid shift.

Maybe that's why Harry likes to be in and out of the joint. Can't stomach the smell to hang around for any longer than necessary. But that's not to say he didn't spend his past evenings out of the office.

They collect the money owed, stuff it into the duffle Brian holds and leave as quickly as they arrived. In and out, that's all Harry wanted. But a regular worker seems to have other ideas as she awaits for him outside of the office door.

The second Harry takes a step, Lily's got her arms on his  chest and leg raising to rub her thigh against his hips. Harry lets out a frustrated huff, shoving her leg off him but she doesn't seem to take the hint.

"H, come on. It's been months. I know you miss me."

Her hands are all over his body like a plague, minty breath hot on his face and he's not in the fucking mood. As if he didn't make it clear enough the last time she tried this shit.

"Touch me one more time and see what happens. I warned you before, now let me make it a little clearer for that thick skull of yours," he jabs at her temple. "Next time your daddy doesn't have money, I'm gonna put one of my precious bullets between his legs."

His voice is barely above a whisper, but the tone is enough to send a chill down her spine and reluctantly, she backs away. Harry narrows his eyes at the blonde for a moment, tilting his head and wondering where she finds the sheer audacity to approach him the way she does.

Sure, he might've used her as a means to an end semi-regularly. Might've frequented when he needed a good and easy fuck. But that was then and this is now. And in between, he's already warned her twice to back off.

"Are you aware of what happens to women that make continuous, disrespectful passes to a Capo?" Her skin pales. "Don't make me remind you."

He leaves with a bitter taste in his mouth. Harry's not proud of the way he handled the situation, nor the overhanging threat he's also offered. But one thing is for certain. Harry has never and will never be taken advantage of. And now as Capo dei Capi, he can't afford to be seen taking even a single ounce of disrespect without acting in it.

What a sick world he lives in. And what a sick life he has.

Harry's in a foul mood as he leaves the strip club, a hard frown set between his brows and he's chewing at the inside of his cheek. He wants nothing more than to fuck out all the tension and stress he's feeling and if he wasn't now a married man, he probably would've stayed at the club.

But he is a married man and his wife is at home. His wife. Y/N. Harry's cock stiffens again at the thought of her spread beneath him, her cunt in his face as she squirms and whimpers.

He calls it a night, tells Demetri to drop Brian and him home. He ignores the looks from his friend. Harry knows there's work to be done, but why should he be the one to chase petty cash. He has soldiers for a reason.

When he arrives home it's just reaching 7pm and his shoulders slouch as he walks through the penthouse. His tie is the first thing he loosens as he grabs a beer from the fridge. It's eerily quiet — could hear a pin drop.

Usually, Y/N would be loitering around, waiting for him. Or he'd at least hear her and Mike having a heated debate about what cookies taste better.

Not today. Today, Mike is reading a book by the window as Y/N... Oh, Y/N. Harry notices her sunhat first. She's sat out on the balcony terrace, enjoying the final rays of today's sun with a little fruity drink on the table beside her.

Harry raises a brow to Mike, who holds his hands up. "Tried to convince her to stay inside. She insisted she needed some Vitamin D and that I can't deprive her of fresh air."

Harry has to stifle a laugh. While he's not entirely pleased she's lounging on the balcony after the imminent threat he's sure Nino has hanging above their heads, he can't be mad when she makes a surely good argument.

He was the one to tell her she's no longer a prisoner. That this is her home as much as his. Harry's just happy she's finally feeling more settled in her new life. As settled as she can, at least.

He dismisses Mike for the evening, asks him to chase up some late debts and when he's sure he's gone, Harry steps out onto the balcony.

His breath hitches in his throat as soon as he does. Y/N lays in a tiny bikini, the swell of her breasts and the skin of her thighs begging to be kneaded and kissed.

Harry clears his throat, making his presence known. Y/N turns to him, smiling shyly like she's not sure if she's going to get told off or not.

"I'm sorry, I just needed a bit of air after our call earlier." She reasons and Harry shakes his head.

"It's your home, darling. You're in good hands when I'm not here. I know Mike will protect you." She nods at his words, a little shy under his intense gaze as he laps her up.

"He didn't uh..." Harry struggles to find the words he's looking for, but by the way his eyes trail up and down Y/N's body, she thinks she's got the idea of what he's trying to say.

"No," she shakes her head. "He was very respectful."

Her voice is quiet and she's quick to shy away from Harry's gaze. He hides his smile and takes a seat on the deck chair beside her while Y/N tries to regain her breathing and not feel so bare in what she's wearing in front of her husband.

"How was your day?" He asks in an attempt to keep her mind busy and not shy away from him.

Y/N shrugs, ignoring his question. "I'm worried about Maria."

While her heart is thumping in her chest, Harry's skips a beat in his. "We've got five weeks, and I've got a meeting with Dante tomorrow. I'm going to try everything I can to stop this."

His eyes are set on the side of her face, watching as she nods but he knows she doesn't believe anything will change. If Harry's honest, he doesn't believe it either. He knows there's nothing he can do to stop this wedding. But for his wife's sake, he'll try.

"How was your day?" He repeats the question again and Y/N breathes heavily.

"I finished my book," she starts, a little shaky breath following. Harry gets the idea she wants to tell him something but is too scared of the potential repercussions. He squints at her.

"And?"

He doesn't mean to press her for answers, he just wants to understand what's going through her head. He's worked hard to get them to where they are now — to have Y/N open up to him, to begin to trust him.

There's no way in Hell he's going to allow it to all be for nothing, for their progress and hers to fall backward.

"I signed up for an online course in Law."

Harry's a little stunned at her confession. It's definitely not what he was expecting to hear and he lets out a small laugh. A Made Man's wife wants to work in law. How fucking ironic.

Y/N rolls her eyes.

"It's just something for me to do," she defends herself. "I hate sitting around here all the time just reading. I feel like I'm part of the furniture. I'm bored."

Harry raises his eyebrows. "You're bored?"

"Yes." She nods. "It's boring."

He can't quite believe what he's hearing. "How are you bored? The city is yours, anywhere you want to go, Mike will take you."

Y/N groans. "That's the problem. Everything I do involves Mike. I want to do something that's just me. I want to do something valuable with my time."

"Well I'm not sure law is the way to go, darling." He laughs again and Y/N feels like giving up on the conversation.

Harry can sense her defeat and he sits up on his lounge chair, arms resting on his knees when he proposes an idea he's not even sure of himself.

"Okay, okay. Hold on. How about you work with me?"

She turns to him, peering from above her sunglasses. Y/N tries to gauge if he's joking or not. But when all she sees is raised eyebrows like he's awaiting a reply, she realises he's serious.

"Work with you? Is that even allowed?"

Harry has to take a moment. While he's sure it's not not allowed, he's never seen a Mafia wife involved in business before. But then again no woman has ever attended a business meeting within the Famiglia until Y/N did.

And besides, it's not like she has to have an all important role. Like Y/N said herself, she just wants something to do. And if Harry truly wants to make a change in the way he reigns, maybe this is the perfect first step to take.

"If I say it's allowed, then it's allowed. And I don't think Dante would have a problem with it."

Y/N considers it for a moment. She'd no longer be spending her days cooped up in the penthouse. She could do something that isn't so mind numbing for once. Spend some extra time with Harry, maybe even make a couple of friends of her own.

"Doing what?" She inquires and Harry knows he's got her hooked.

He shrugs. "What would you like to do? Got a few businesses that need a makeover, you could do some interior design?" Harry suggests but it's not something that sparks much excitement. She doesn't want to boss people around, and she's not sure the men would take her so seriously.

Y/N squints. "What about the club?"

Harry pauses. "What about it?"

She purses her lips, fiddling with her fingers. "I mean, you're always complaining about the manager now." Harry hums, nodding to himself in absolute agreement. "And he doesn't treat the girls with much respect."

Her points are more than valid, but she doesn't stop there. "I'd be in the office like ninety percent of the time, you have security there that could keep an eye anyway. And if you really wanted to keep Mike with me, I don't think he'd mind spending most of his time at a strip club."

Harry barks out a laugh at her words. Y/N sways him with every word she speaks, and Harry finds himself truly considering allowing her to run the club.

It's not a hard job and she's a smart woman. The girls are more likely to respect and look out for her, she'll be in an office and she'll probably feel more safe being around trusting women all day.

"It's not just the club you'd be running... you know we launder money through the club. It means you'd have to be on top of the books, making everything look legit." There's hesitancy in his voice and Y/N hears it, but she'll be damned if this is what makes him change her mind.

"And you can show me how. I can do this, Harry. Please."

Washing dirty money isn't something that bothers her. Her whole life has been death and crime, and she'd more than willingly get her hands dirty more than this to help her husband. To protect her husband.

She wants Harry to trust her. To believe that she is more than capable of living deeper in this life. She wants him to share things with her, not hide secrets to protect her. She can handle this.

He looks at her for a moment, her beautiful face and the excitement she radiates. It doesn't take much for Harry to crumble when it comes to her recently. Maybe it's because he wants her to feel safe and secure that he just gives her what she wants. Or maybe it's something else, something deeper.

Whatever it is, it has him saying okay, and that has her clapping excitedly.

Harry makes no effort to tear his eyes away from her, he can't. Y/N is relaxed on her chair again, no longer shying away or feeling insecure under his gaze. All of the tension from today slowly leaves his body and Harry's left with just a small strain in his pants.

The swell of her breasts and the roundness of her hips has Harry's mind in a whirlwind of desire and need. It's astonishing how quickly she gets him like this. How little she has to do to evoke such a response.

Y/N can feel his burning stare and it makes her shudder; sends goosebumps across her skin despite the warm weather she's surrounded by.

"You're staring," she mutters quietly.

"Can't help it," Harry grins. "Just look at you."

She doesn't want to shy away with every look and compliment Harry gives her. She's been a frail, quiet girl for her entire life and she doesn't want to continue to live that way.

Maybe it's feigned confidence or maybe it's not, but she stands from her lounge chair and leans against the balcony rail, allowing Harry a perfect view of her rounded ass.

He's trying to catch his breath at the sight. The little thong that disappears between her cheeks, the perfect swell that separates her ass to her thighs. Slowly, he comes up behind her, lips and hot breath ghosting against the junction between her neck and shoulder.

Harry feels her shudder at his closeness, the