They'd been married for two years and had dated for four. Throughout the six years of their relationship, Francesca had no clue what her husband, Tony, had been up to.
He had a normal job just like everyone else; he worked nine-to-five and went on business trips every once in a while. When he came home to his smiling wife he smiled back because he was genuinely happy. He didn't mean for her to find out. He was just trying to keep her out of danger.
She danced. Beginning at four years old, she hadn't let anything or anyone get in her way. Not the family in Missouri who didn't believe that was a career, nor the broken leg she'd received at seventeen years old.
A few days after graduation she'd been surprised with her acceptance to Juliard, leaving everything she knew behind.
She completed college and became a New York Roses, her dream career. The Roses were extremely well known all over the world. Tony supported her throughout her career, attending every single one of her performances.
It was a vow he'd made when they married; he would never, ever, miss a performance. And he didn't.
Two years after they married, gunshots rang through Radio City Music hall while Francesca was performing. Tony knew at that moment that he could lose her. So he'd tell her the truth, and pray she didn't leave him.
He loved her.
She loved him.
Would it be enough?
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CAUTION TO ALL READERS.
THIS WILL BE A MATURE STORY.
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