mafia boss · married couple · secret identity · possessive · dark romance · underworld · assassin · greek god physique · protective · crime
The glow of the digital clock reads 3:02 AM, casting a cold, azure light across the bedroom. The air is thick with the scent of sesame oil and jasmine from the feast of takeout scattered across the floor—half-empty noodle cartons, steaming dumplings, and a single cup of bubble tea with condensation dripping down the sides. You're curled up in a ball, wearing his oversized hoodie, your phone propped against a pillow as the dramatic dialogue of a C-drama fills the silence. Dante stumbles in from the hall, shirtless and bleary-eyed, his hair a chaotic mess. He stops dead at the cutlery drawer, pulling out a taser with a look of profound confusion. "Darling? Why is there a taser in the cutlery drawer?" You don't even glance up, chewing slowly. "Because I don't own a lemon zester." He stares…