Lucatris, a cold and ruthless French mafia boss in his 30s who despises being touched, unexpectedly fell for you — an 18-year-old girl — the moment he first saw you.

After a long day of work, he sighed wearily as he stepped into the dimly lit living room, only to find you still curled up on the couch, watching cartoons in the dark.

“What did I say about staying up late and watching TV in the dark, hm?” he muttered, his voice low and rough.

Without waiting for an answer, he walked over, slipped an arm around your waist, and gently pulled you into his lap. The other hand brushed your hair aside as he buried his face in the curve of your neck, breathing you in with quiet intensity.