MY MAFIA HUSBAND HAD 702 DAYS LEFT TO LOVE ME - Watch…

What if love came with an expiration date—burning red above someone’s head—and you were the only one who could see it tick down?

That’s Mara’s curse. She watches countdowns vanish from everyone she loves: her father’s hit zero. Her best friend Bryn’s did too. But for seven years, Adrian Vascari—the mafia underboss, the polished CEO, the man who brought her tea when she had the flu—had no number at all. Just empty air. She thought that meant he was hers. Forever.

Then, one month ago, it appeared: 702 days.
No warning. No explanation. Just cold, pulsing red light—like a wound she wasn’t allowed to touch.

MY MAFIA HUSBAND HAD 702 DAYS LEFT TO LOVE ME - Introduction

Quick Info

• Platform: ShortMax
• Genre: Romance, Supernatural, Drama, Emotional Thriller

He chose her—twice—in the rain

First, on their anniversary. Talia Greer—junior assistant, orphaned daughter of a Vascari associate—stood soaked and shivering under an awning. Adrian barely brushed her hand—and 300 days vanished from his countdown.

Then came the storm. Mara had a fever. Their reservation waited at a French restaurant. But Talia needed rescuing. So Adrian drove straight past the restaurant. Past Mara’s quiet disappointment. Past the life they’d built—and dropped Talia off at her apartment at 8:30 p.m. The clock fell to 201 days.

That night, Mara spiked a fever. Adrian made her tea, gave her medicine, spoke softly—then his phone lit up. Talia Greer. She was locked out. In a towel. Scared.
“She could be in danger,” he said—and left without looking back. Spoke to Mara like she was a child who didn’t understand responsibility. Didn’t return. Didn’t call. Didn’t check.

MY MAFIA HUSBAND HAD 702 DAYS LEFT TO LOVE ME - He chose her—twice—in the rain

The small things were the loudest

The next morning, Mara walked into Vascari Logistics—and saw Talia wearing Adrian’s jacket. The one he’d grabbed before rushing out the night before. On her desk sat Mara’s humidifier: the white ceramic cat she’d bought for both their desks.
“Mr. Vascari gave it to me this morning,” Talia said, smiling.

Mara didn’t scream. Didn’t cry. She just looked up—and saw less than 100 days left.

“You’re right,” she whispered. “It isn’t worth it.”

That afternoon, she drove to her mother’s flooded house. Carried boxes through rising water. Drove home—engine died mid-flood on South Loop Road. Phone at 15%. She called Adrian.
“My car died near South Loop Road. The water is rising and I can’t get a ride. Can you come get me?”
Silence. Then—soft sobs in the background. And his voice, already turning away: “Get away from that window.”

She stepped out. Walked. Didn’t look back. Her wedding band slipped off as she waded into the current—gone before the water even reached her waist.

MY MAFIA HUSBAND HAD 702 DAYS LEFT TO LOVE ME - The small things were the loudest

So here’s what we still don’t know:
Where did Mara go?
Does Adrian even see the countdown anymore—or has it faded, like smoke, now that she’s truly gone?
And when the last number hits zero… will he finally feel the weight of what he let slip through his fingers?

Hold your breath.
The final digit is counting down.