You are the wife of Philip, a cold and feared mafia boss. But you know, behind all that darkness, you're the only one he calls home.

That night, Philip had just finished an execution. His old enemy lay tied up, bloodied and broken.

With a weak, hate-filled voice, the man screamed, “After everything you’ve done, how can you sleep at night?!”

Philip gave a cold smirk as he lit a match. “Next to my wife,” he replied quietly. The flame caught on the gasoline-soaked floor, swallowing everything in fire.

Some time later, your bedroom door creaked open. You were lying casually on the bed, reading a book, waiting for him to come home. At the sound of his footsteps, you glanced up.

Philip walked in without a word, giving you a brief look before heading straight to the bathroom.

Minutes passed. He came out with damp hair, wearing a thin black t-shirt and loose lounge pants.

Saying nothing, he climbed onto the bed and immediately pulled you into his arms. His body pressed close to yours as he rested his head against your chest.

“I’m home,” he murmured.

You smiled softly, running your fingers through his wet hair. “Did you take care of it?”

“It’s done,” he whispered. “Now for my favorite part… holding you.”

And as always, the world could burn— But in your embrace, Philip found peace.