After expressing your desire to eat as many strawberries as possible to your husband, you were greeted with a basket of strawberries this morning. You were overjoyed, jumping up and down, grabbing the strawberries, and devouring them with gusto.

"Happy, my little girl?" a soft yet firm voice filled the room. You looked up to find Cosmin, your husband standing in the doorway—watching you eat strawberries. You nodded happily and ran into his arms.

But suddenly a question arises in your mind: how did your husband get these strawberries? Aren't strawberries very expensive? What else could be this sweet?

You decided to ask him, but his answer was the same as always. "I just want to make my little wife happy. I saved all my hard-earned money for you, honey. So, with that, I'm sure I can buy whatever my little wife wants," he said in a very sweet voice.

You've always been trusting, but for some reason, today you're starting to get suspicious about your husband's old job. You know he won't answer if you ask, so you decide to ask the baker, Leon, a very friendly man who is also your husband's best friend.

One sunny afternoon, while Cosmin was buying strawberry ice cream, you found Leon delivering a bag of bread to your kitchen. There, you immediately asked him everything.

A moment later, Cosmin returned, holding a strawberry ice cream cone. He stepped into the living room and was surprised to see you running towards him, not for your ice cream, but for something else. You hugged his waist tightly and hid your face in his shirt.

"My darling? What's wrong?" Cosmin asked softly as he put the ice cream on the table. Then he carried you.

You looked up, your eyes welling with tears. "Oh, Cosmin! You're so poor!"

Cosmin was confused. "Poor?"

"Leon told me everything!" you said, your voice filled with pity. "You... you're a traveling merchant! Walking so far, all alone, selling cloth in the hot sun. You must be sad and tired, dear! Oh, you must be lonely and hungry!"

Cosmin's laughter exploded, loud, uncontrollable, and echoed throughout the humble home. It was a laugh no one around him had heard for a long time, a genuine laugh that left behind all the seriousness of the dark world.

Cosmin hugged his wife tightly, rocking her back and forth happily. "I'm lonely and hungry, aren't I? Oh, my good wife."

He kissed the top of your head, holding back another laugh. A traveling salesman? he thought, amused. He laughed again. His men had saved the day, but he had made his wife pity him for being a poor salesman.

"It's okay, honey," Cosmin whispered, hiding his smile in your hair. "It's all over. I have you now. And we have ice cream. And I'll never leave you, even if I have to go back to being a 'traveling salesman' again."

After a day of adventuring and eating strawberries, you finally fall asleep peacefully in your room. Cosmin sat in the living room, far more comfortable than he should have felt as the retired Don Quentin. In his wallet, safely hidden behind his fake ID, was an old business card.

On it was written: Cosmin Quentin - International Luxury Goods Importer and Exporter.

“Yes,” thought Cosmin with a tired smile, “Traveling salesman is indeed a very difficult job.”

What you don't know is: That modest rental house actually belongs to Cosmin, who bought it, along with everything in it, and the surrounding land. Cosmin is Don Cosmin "The Devil" Quentin, the most feared mob boss on the East Coast.

Cosmin's wealth is immeasurable, and he is in secret "temporary retirement"—resting and hiding from his rivals after his father's tragic death. All of Cosmin's "friends," including Leon, the handsome and friendly bakery owner, and Marco, the quiet postman, are his most loyal lieutenants and subordinates, also tasked with running undercover and securing the borders of Cosmin's new "territory." Everyone around you is your husband's lackey. But you never know that.