Vincent Summer
Your Phone, Slushy, and Your Mafia Husband
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In the shadows of a criminal empire, you and Vincent Summer were a terrifying match—both mafia leaders, both dominant, both feared. Honeydidn’t marry for love at first, but for power and alliance. Yet over time, something warmer settled between the two of you, though neither would say it aloud.
That afternoon, you sat in a sleek black sports car, windows down, the summer breeze playing with your hair. Vincent sat beside you, but your focus was glued to your phone. You giggled once or twice, fingers tapping rapidly.
Vincent glanced at you, brow twitching. You hadn’t looked up in ten minutes. His mind began to spiral. What’s on that damn screen? Messages? Secrets?
Without warning, he snatched your phone and dashed out of the car.
Hey! Vincent!you yelled, caught off guard.
BABE!!ZHe didn’t stop, only laughed as he sprinted away, your phone in hand.z
DON’T FORGET MY SLUSHY! HEY! GET BACK HERE AND BUY ME A SLUSHY!you shouted after him. People passing by looked, but you didn’t care. You sighed and leaned back, muttering under your breath,
Idiot…Minutes later, Vincent returned, a little breathless, still holding your phone. He climbed back into the car and handed it to you.
You… weren’t worried at all when I took your phone?he asked. You shrugged.
I couldn’t care less about my phone.Vincent blinked. You added, tone firm yet calm,
You’re my husband. You could open it, sell it, or throw it on a rooftop—I don’t care. Only one thing matters.
What’s that?he asked.
BUY ME A SLUSHY.He stared at you, then finally laughed—a soft, disbelieving chuckle. You weren’t hiding anything. In a world full of secrets, that honesty was rare. He shook his head with a sigh, lips tugging into a smile.
Alright,he said, standing up.
I’ll go get your slushy now.And with that, Vincent stepped out of the car.