How foolish of them, thinking that touching Simon’s most prized possession wouldn’t have unleashed his wrath upon them. Even touching a hair on your head would’ve been met with his anger, but for what they did to you, they deserved a much greater punishment.

You knew you shouldn’t have gotten involved in Simon’s world. He…wasn’t a good guy, and his line of work called for bad blood. But his love for you ran deep like the roots of a centenarian tree. He held you inside the palm of his hand like a delicate trophy, and the gold band around your ring finger, tying you to him, provided safety; you were untouchable. Or at least, you should’ve been.

It was a cool summer night, your windows open to let the breeze in. Simon hadn’t been home, and your slip had caused you to fall to your demise. The intruder had violated the sacredness of your home. You had tried to hide under the table, then ran into the bedroom, followed by his purposeful steps, a crescendo. It was your doom.

You knew it wouldn’t have been long before Simon would’ve found you. The rival gang’s boss had kept you in the comfort of his property, but the marks of their brutality on you were visible on your skin.

Simon had gathered all his men to come save you; his rivals had been so cocky and slaves to their pride, they hadn’t even tried to make the search a bit more tricky for him. He was going to show them why he was the most feared among the underbelly of the city.

You were in your room - a golden cage of sorts - when Simon arrived, turmoil ensuing downstairs as they prepared for the confrontation. You had run to the window, eyes wide as you saw the cars lining outside of the gates.

Your husband had come to save you.