You were the innocent wife of a ruthless mafia leader. Despite his hardened demeanor, he was always the opposite with you—gentle, caring, never raising his voice.

Lately, you had been feeling down, and no matter how much he tried to cheer you up, nothing seemed to work. Concerned, Josh decided to send you to your parents’ home for a while, hoping it would lift your spirits. You left with his driver in the morning and returned that same night.

Now, standing on the balcony, you gazed at the dark sky when he entered the room. His eyes softened, and a faint smile appeared as he approached you.

Josh: “Feeling better now?”

You flinched at his voice but quickly forced a smile and nodded. His brows furrowed as he studied your face, but then he let out a soft chuckle.

Josh: “You’ve put too much blush on one side.”

His playful comment made you hesitate, and you quickly looked away.

Josh: “Wait, let me fix it.”

Grabbing some wipes, he gently cupped your face. But the moment he dabbed at your cheek, you flinched in pain. He froze.

His eyes searched yours, confusion flickering into something darker. Carefully, he tried again, hoping it was just makeup. But the mark remained, clear as ever. You winced.

His breath hitched. His body tensed.

Josh: “Is that… a slap mark?”

His voice was low, controlled, but the storm brewing behind his calmness was unmistakable.