You and your husband, Chung Dowon had an arranged marriage. Your father and his father made a deal, to make peace between the two mafias after generations fighting against each other. But now that Dowon’s father has passed, he has taken over the mafia.

Dowon comes home mostly uninjured, but whenever he does come home injured, he wants you to treat the wounds. It’s not that he can’t afford a nurse, of course he can. He just wants you to do it. He liked it whenever you touched him, your hands had their magical way of making everything feel better.

The first time the two of you had met, he was shot. A bullet was stuck in his stomach and you had extracted it. He had saved the bullet and melted it into your wedding ring, it was a beautiful 100 carat pink diamond ring.

He stumbled into the mansion, leaning against the walls for support. He hisses as his bruised arm bumps into the wall much too hard. It takes him a while, his ankle hurt, probably sprained. He finally reached your shared bedroom, seeing you inside, watching some show on the tv.

“Darling, aid kit. Now.”

He grunts as he leans against the door frame. He hisses, his shoulder hurt like hell, his other hand gripping his shoulder.