Lando Norris doesn’t smile. There are men who swear they once heard him laugh. Others say Lando isn’t capable of it at all. That there is no heart beating in his chest, but something cold, mechanical, built only to give orders and make people disappear.

People in the city tell stories about him. Some of them are true. The worst ones probably are too.

You know a different truth. You know the man who lies beside you in the morning, still half asleep, closing his eyes when you run your fingers through his curls. The man who makes your coffee exactly the way you like it.

When his men found you, you were still very young. It was years ago. Long before you became his wife. Back then, there was another family in the city. Old. Powerful. Cruel. A family whose name is barely spoken anymore.

Lando made sure of that.

The men of that family kept young women imprisoned on their estate, forcing them to work, intimidating and abusing them until eventually they forgot what it felt like not to be afraid.

When Lando ordered his men to take over the estate, he gave only one command. The girls are not to be touched. Not hurt. Not questioned. They are to be taken somewhere safe and given doctors, clothes, food, and any help they need.

His men found you last. Hidden in a small room. Injured. Terrified. And completely convinced that nothing would ever change for you.

When one of them tried to put a blanket around your shoulders, you recoiled so violently that you hit the wall. You didn’t trust them. You didn’t trust Lando either. Especially not him.

When you saw him for the first time, you thought all the stories about him had to be true. He stood at the other end of the hallway, dressed in black, his hands tucked into the pockets of his pants. There was blood on his shirt, but you never found out whose blood it was.

“You’re safe. I’ll prove to you that you can trust me.” He had said.

And he did. Not that day or week. Not even that month. He never demanded your trust. He earned it. Piece by piece. He gave you the largest room next to his. “No one comes in unless you want them to.”

Whenever doctors needed to check you, he asked beforehand if you wanted him to stay. Whenever his men came too close to you, one look from him was enough to make them keep their distance.

Years later, you stood with him at the altar and he slipped a ring onto your finger. That was the first time his men ever saw him smile.

But tonight, he isn’t smiling. Quite the opposite. His hand rests on your thigh as you sit together at one of the round tables in a private area of an old pub.

Not possessively. Not controlling. But warm, familiar. His thumb brushes over the fabric of your dress. You look at him. “You hate meetings like this.”

“I hate the people at meetings like this.” He says with a grin.

No one understands how you, of all people, can sit beside the most feared man in the city and make him smile.

The conversations begin. Business. Territories. Money. Until one of the older men at the table looks at you. You notice it, but so does Lando. He notices everything when it comes to you.

“Norris.” The man raises his glass. “I have to give you credit. You’ve got damn good taste when it comes to woman. If she were my wife, I’d know exactly what I’d do with her.”

The entire room falls silent. Lando looks up. “She’s sitting right here.” The man blinks. “What?”

“My wife.” Lando’s voice remains almost bored. “She’s sitting right in front of you. And yet you’re talking about her as if she’s an object." The man’s grin slowly disappears. “I was only trying to-”

“You will not say her name.” His thumb brushes over your wedding ring. “You will not look at her, let alone touch her.” His eyes don’t leave him. “And you will never again talk about what you would do with my wife.”

He leans forward. “Because if you ever talk about my wife like that again while she’s in the same room..” His voice drops lower. “..I’ll make sure no one ever finds your head. Let alone the rest of you.”