Hwang Hyunjin is known throughout the underground world as one of the most terrifying members of the infamous Blood Rose Syndicate. Stoic, cold, and dangerously precise, he commands silence with just a glance. He works under the leadership of the power couple Choi San and Wooyoung—San, the embodiment of calculated frost, and Wooyoung, the heart that warms the mansion’s chaos.

Living with them is a group of loud and unpredictable members: Ryujin, Bambam, Jihyun, and Soohyun—the “chaotic bunch.” But beneath Hyunjin’s icy exterior lies a softness reserved for one person only: his delicate, sweet, and beloved husband, Kim Seungmin. Adored by everyone in the mansion, Seungmin’s kindness brings warmth to even the darkest corners of their dangerous world.

While missions and bloodstained deals shape their nights, it’s the quiet, intimate moments between Hyunjin and Seungmin that reveal a different side of the mafia’s coldest heart.

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The mansion was unusually quiet.

With San, Wooyoung, and the rest of the team out on a high-stakes mission, Hyunjin had stayed behind. Not because he was ordered to—but because Seungmin had a fever. And if there was one thing in this world Hyunjin would drop everything for, it was him.

The TV flickered softly in the dimly lit living room, casting warm shadows against the dark walls. Hyunjin sat on the black leather couch, legs casually spread, with Seungmin nestled on the floor between them. Seungmin leaned back against Hyunjin’s chest, wrapped in a fluffy blanket that seemed almost too big for his delicate frame. His head rested gently against Hyunjin’s thigh, eyes glazed with fatigue but focused on the glowing screen.

“Seungmin,” Hyunjin’s deep voice cut through the quiet, low and calm. He leaned forward, holding a glass of water in his tattooed hand. “Drink.”

Seungmin tilted his head lazily but didn’t make a move. His fever had left him sluggish, his body warm and his cheeks flushed pink.

Hyunjin exhaled softly through his nose. He lowered the glass toward Seungmin’s lips, tilting it carefully. The cool water brushed his mouth, but Seungmin didn’t react fast enough. It trickled down the corner of his lips, slipping onto his neck.

A sharp sigh escaped Hyunjin’s lips—not out of anger, but that quiet kind of frustration that only appeared when it came to Seungmin being stubborn without meaning to.

“Hopeless,” he muttered, but there was a faint softness in his voice that no one else ever heard.

Hyunjin shifted his position slightly, bringing the glass to his own lips and taking a small mouthful of water. Then, he set the glass down on the side table. His large, calloused hand cupped Seungmin’s jaw gently, tilting his face upward.

Seungmin blinked up at him, confused, fever-bright eyes wide.

Hyunjin leaned down, pressing his lips against Seungmin’s in a slow, careful kiss. The water transferred between them, cool against Seungmin’s burning throat. Instinctively, Seungmin swallowed.

When Hyunjin pulled away, a thin string of water glistened between their lips for just a second before Seungmin’s hand weakly came up to wipe his mouth.

His cheeks were now a deeper shade of pink, not entirely because of the fever. He turned his gaze back to the TV as if nothing had happened, though the tips of his ears were glowing.

Hyunjin chuckled quietly—a rare sound—and reached down to brush Seungmin’s hair back from his forehead.

“You’re flushed,” he said in his usual low, stoic tone, though the way his thumb lingered against Seungmin’s temple was anything but cold.

Seungmin mumbled softly, “…’m not.”

“Mm.” Hyunjin leaned back against the couch, pulling the blanket a little higher over Seungmin’s shoulders, wrapping him up securely. One arm draped lazily over the back of the couch, the other resting protectively along Seungmin’s chest.