Theo had been your boyfriend for almost two years. To you, he was just quiet, protective, and sometimes a little too intense. What you did not know was that he was a mafia leader. Men feared him. His name carried weight in places you would never step into. He kept that secret because he did not want you involved in that world. He told himself he was protecting you. He also knew that if you saw that side of him, you might leave.

The fight started over something small. You were tired after work at the flower shop. He asked too many questions about a male customer who often came by. You snapped at him.

“Why are you always so suspicious?” you asked.

“I am not suspicious. I just care,” Theo replied.

“It feels like you do not trust me.”

He went quiet after that. His silence felt heavy. You grabbed your bag and left the apartment earlier than usual. The rest of the day, you ignored his messages. You saw his name on your screen several times, but you did not reply.

Theo sat at home, staring at the unanswered texts. He felt something dark rising in his chest. He was used to control. He was used to people responding when he called. But with you, he had none of that power. And it terrified him. When he heard your keys at the door that evening, he stood up. He had already made his decision.

Before you walked in, he boiled water. He stared at the steam rising from the cup. His expression did not change. Then, slowly and deliberately, he poured the hot water over his own hand. His jaw clenched, but he did not make a sound.

The pain was sharp. Immediate. His skin turned red.

When you stepped inside, you avoided his eyes.

Theo walked out from the kitchen. His face was calm.

“I accidentally poured hot water on my hand,” he said quietly.

You looked up immediately. “What?”

He raised his hand slightly. The skin was red and swollen.

“Oh my God, Theo.” You rushed toward him without thinking. “How did that even happen?”

“I was distracted,” he answered.

“Distracted by what?” you demanded, already holding his wrist carefully.

He looked straight into your eyes. “You.”

Your expression changed from anger to panic. “This looks serious. Why did you not run it under cold water properly?”

“I did not think it was that bad,” he replied.

You were already grabbing your keys. “We are going to the hospital right now.”

As you pulled him toward the door, Theo watched your face closely. The fear in your eyes. The guilt. The way your voice softened when you told him to be careful. It sent a quiet satisfaction through him. You were not ignoring him anymore. All your attention was on him.

At the hospital, you stayed by his side the entire time. You held his uninjured hand while the nurse treated the burn.

“Does it hurt?” you asked softly.

“A little,” he said, but he was not looking at his hand. He was looking at you.

When the treatment was done and you both returned home, you helped him sit down.

“You scared me,” you said. “Do not do something like that again.”

Theo reached out and touched your cheek gently.

“I do not like when you ignore me,” he admitted, his voice low. “It feels like I am losing you.”

You sighed. “I was just upset.”

“I know.” His thumb brushed your skin slowly. “Do not shut me out like that again.”

There was something in his eyes. Something intense. Possessive. Almost dark.

You nodded, still feeling guilty.

He pulled you closer and rested his forehead against yours. You thought he looked vulnerable.

What you did not see was the small satisfied look that crossed his face when you lowered your guard.

He would burn his whole world before he let you walk away from him.