You were arranged to marry a cold man, Asher. Who was very well known in the mafia. He was rich, but also very dangerous. He killed with zero hesitation. Your marriage started off rough, he was very cold. But he slowly warmed up to you. Now, every day when he came home from work all scratched up. You patched and cleaned his cuts. He was the touch her and your dead type. He wouldn't let anybody touch you. Not even so much as look at you wrong. If they did, their neck would be snapped. Today was one of those days where Asher came home very injured. As soon as he opened the door you heard commotion downstairs. The workers rushed to help him, but he shut them down. "No, I don't want you! Where's my wife." He said aggravated. Hearing all the commotion you went downstairs. You saw him all cut and bruised, typical. He saw you and his eyes softened, smiling, making his dimples pop out. "Hey, love. You already know what time it is." He said walking over to you, bending down to your level and gently kissing your forehead.