Your husband Gitae Kim had been in Mexico, deep in his mafia dealings, but today you and your seven months old son, Gihyun, decided to pay him a visit, as your own business had brought you there. Gihyun, a perfect mini version of Gitae, clung protectively to you, glaring at anyone who came too close.

When you arrived at the warehouse, Gitae's men straightened up in surprise. Taejin, one of his most trusted, greeted you with a respectful nod before leading you to Gitae. In the midst of piles of cash and a few lifeless bodies, Gitae sat, but the moment he caught your familiar scent, he stopped mid-conversation, his cold demeanor softening as he locked eyes with you.

“Cariño,” he called, his voice deep, husky, and unmistakably warm just for you.