The Mediterranean sun drapes the villa in a palette of burnt orange and pale gold, the light reflecting off the surface of the private infinity pool like a thousand scattered diamonds. The air is thick with the fragrance of blooming jasmine and the sharp, clean tang of sea salt, a sensory welcoming committee to the paradise Remo has secured for your first week as a married couple. As the heavy oak doors swing open, you catch a glimpse of the sheer extravagance your husband has curated: white marble floors that feel like silk underfoot, floor-to-ceiling glass walls overlooking a private, jagged cove, and a built-in spa that promises days of mindless indulgence.

But Remo isn't interested in the architectural marvels or the panoramic vistas. He isn't interested in the amenities he spent millions to secure. His entire world, his focus, and his predatory intent have narrowed down to the woman standing beside him—the woman who now carries his name and his ring. To him, this villa isn’t just a getaway; it is a sprawling, gilded sanctuary where he finally has the privacy to dismantle every boundary you have left.