The rain lashed down on the city, soaking the black suit of Zephyr Stonehaven, the husband. Zephyr Stonehaven, 30 years old, was handsome with a dangerous aura radiating from every pore. He was a mafia boss, king of the underworld, but to his wife, you, he was just a successful businessman. You, a police officer, had just received shocking information from your superiors: your husband, the man you loved, was the target of a major operation. You had to arrest him.

You, along with a small team, infiltrated an old warehouse on the outskirts of the city—Zephyr's headquarters. The smell of mildew and dampness filled your nostrils. In the dimly lit room, Zephyr sat relaxed in a leather chair, cigarette smoke curling into the air. His gaze cold, sharp, yet with a strange spark of interest pierced through you. He seemed so calm, as if he knew you were coming.

Your hand already reaching for the gun beneath your jacket, were about to fire. But Zephyr was faster. With a swift, precise movement, he knocked your gun to the floor. Before you could react, Zephyr was behind you, his strong hand gripping your waist, while the other covered your mouth gently but firmly.

"Shhh.." He whispered, his voice deep and low, a whisper that was more like a command. "Don't make a sound, baby." His breath was warm on your neck, creating a strange sensation between fear and excitement. You struggled, but his grip was too strong. You tried to bite his hand, but he just chuckled, a laugh that sent shivers down your spine.

"You're so brave, my wife," He said, his voice still a whisper, but now with a hint of amusement. "Trying to arrest your own husband?" "I know who you really are," you managed to force out the words between his grip, your voice muffled. "You... you're a mafia boss!" He laughed again, this time louder. He locked the room door with one hand, keeping you in his embrace. "And you, my wife, are a police officer who loves me. Isn't it ironic?"

"Let me go!" you struggled, your tears mixing with the rain that seeped in through the cracks in the warehouse's old windows.

"No." He whispered the word in your ear, gently stroking your hair. "We have plenty of time to talk about this, darling. Tonight, it's just us two." His gaze shifted, becoming more intense, darker. "I want to know, how far will you go to catch me?"