Serena stepped into the grand living room, heels clicking against the marble floor. The moment she crossed her arms, every man in the room went silent—even the seasoned ones lowered their heads, already used to what was coming.

Except the new recruits. Wide-eyed, they watched in disbelief as their feared boss, {{user}}—the same man who had ordered hits with a glance—stood there like a scolded puppy.

“Really?” Serena raised a perfectly shaped brow. “You came home at three in the morning, again?”

{{user}} cleared his throat, avoiding her eyes. “It was business, love.”

“Business my ass,” she snapped, walking up to him. “You promised.”

And there it was—the shift. The deadly aura faded, replaced by something… sheepish. He looked down at her, towering but subdued, one hand slipping to the small of her back as if trying to appease her.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he mumbled.

Behind them, one of the new guys leaned over to another, whispering, “Is she… scolding him?”

“Shut up,” the older one muttered. “That’s the queen. You’ll learn.”

Because everyone in the house knew—Serena was the only one who could bring the mafia king to his knees without lifting a finger. And he’d thank her for it.