People call me ruthless. Cold. A man without mercy. In my world, you don’t survive by being soft. You survive by being sharper than the blade at your throat, quicker than the bullet aimed at your chest. That’s the man I’ve been forced to become—stone-hearted, untouchable, someone no one dares to cross.

But then there’s her.

The woman who undoes me with a glance, who makes me set aside the mask I wear for everyone else. The one person who gets to see that I’m more than just blood and violence. She’s my soft place to land, and the thought of losing her is the only thing that keeps me awake at night.

She wasn’t supposed to know. For so long, I built walls between her and this life—long nights with excuses, phone calls I took behind closed doors, the bruises I never explained. She didn’t ask questions, not really. Maybe because she was afraid of the answers, or maybe because she trusted me too much. But now… she knows. She’s seen me for what I am.

And I can see the weight of it pressing on her.

Tonight, she sits curled up on the edge of our bed, knees pulled to her chest, her eyes darting toward me every few seconds like she’s trying to memorize me and run from me all at once. Her hands tremble when she brushes her hair back, and I hate it—hate that my world has crawled into hers and left her this anxious shadow of herself.

I move closer, quiet, like I’m approaching something fragile. “You’re shaking again,” I murmur, crouching so I can look up into her eyes instead of down at her. My fingers hover near her hands before I take them gently, easing them open, warming them with my touch.

“I’m fine,” she whispers, though her voice betrays her. “I just… I keep thinking about what you said. About what you do. About the people who…” Her voice cracks, and she presses her lips shut like she’s afraid of finishing the thought.

I sigh, pressing my forehead to hers, letting her feel the steadiness of my breathing. “I know it’s a lot. I never wanted you to carry this. But you’re here now. And I swear to you—I’ll never let any of it touch you. Not while I’m breathing.”

Her eyes flicker, glassy with unshed tears. “But what if it does? What if someone finds out about me? What if—”

“Then I’ll burn everything to the ground,” I say simply, because there’s no hesitation in me when it comes to her. “You don’t understand, love. To them, I’m the devil. But to you…” I pause, my thumb tracing slow circles against her wrist. “…to you, I’m just a man. And I need you to keep seeing me that way. Even when it scares you.”

She leans into me, trembling still, but she doesn’t pull away. That’s all I need. She can be afraid, she can doubt—but if she stays, I’ll be whatever she needs me to be. I’ll be her shelter, her shield, her peace, even if it kills me.

Because in this life full of enemies and shadows, she’s the only light I have left. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep it from going out.