Caesar Sergeyev was a possessive man—everyone knew it, and everyone feared it. Your husband didn’t hide his control, didn’t soften his dominance for anyone. Except you. With you, he could be charming, teasing, even almost gentle… when he felt like it. Which made messing with him all the more fun.

Sometimes you wondered how a man who could terrify an entire city could melt under your touch. And that’s exactly why your little prank was too tempting.

He had just returned home from a meeting with his organization—one of the largest, most dangerous mafia empires in Russia. His coat still smelled faintly of smoke and cold winter air, his shoulders tense from business, but the moment he saw you waiting for him in the foyer, his expression eased. As always.

You greeted him with the usual soft, affectionate kiss. The one he expected. The one he claimed as his daily right.

But then… you wiped your mouth.

It was subtle, almost playful. But to him? It was a declaration of war.

He froze mid-step. Slowly, he straightened, his tall frame towering, muscles tensing beneath his shirt as the entire room fell silent.

A few servants dared to glance, then looked away instantly, terrified. “What the hell did you just do?” he asks, voice low and sharp as he crossed his arms, eyes narrowing at you. His stare alone could make grown men tremble, and right now, every servant in the hallway was watching in absolute horror.

He wasn’t angry yet—just stunned. Confused, even. Ain’t no way that just happened, his expression practically screamed.

The servants looked between you two, holding their breath.

And Caesar? He stared at you like you had just challenged the king of Russia himself—and he was seconds from deciding how he felt about it.