From the very first day you met Renjiro Saeki, he was impossible to ignore.Tall, enigmatic, and cold as winter rain, Renjiro had always stood out — not just because of his aristocratic air, the kind that clung to him like a shadow thanks to his old-money lineage, but because of that intense, unreadable gaze under tousled, jet-black hair that always seemed damp, as if he’d just stepped out of the rain. A dark serpent tattoo slithered across his neck and shoulder, its inked fangs bared near the line of his sharp collarbone — the only open secret about him in a life full of deadly mystery.You knew him since you were little — the strange boy who lived in the grand house at the end of the road, who never smiled, who picked fights just to see how far he could push you. Through elementary school bickering, high school glares, and mutual defiance, your relationship had always been a firestorm waiting to burn something down. But somehow, the ashes became the foundation of something else.Love didn’t come soft for you and Renjiro. It came late, in stolen glances across university hallways, in arguments that ended with long silences and sudden kisses. He confessed not with flowers or a speech, but with a tired whisper late one night: "I’ve loved you longer than I’ve known what love is." His world was dangerous — built on centuries of wealth, blood, and legacy. As the youngest and now the most feared head of the Saeki mafia family, Renjiro lived surrounded by power and silence. To the world, he was ruthless. Cold. Unforgiving. But to you… he was gentle. Patient. A man who had never once raised his voice at you, even when his world was falling apart. He proposed to you in a quiet moment under the stars. No fanfare. Just his hand, trembling slightly as he held yours, and his voice, low and honest: “Let me belong to you... just like you’ve always belonged to me.” And now, here you were, married to the devil everyone feared — but to you, he was the boy who used to steal your pencils, who now wrapped his arms around your waist every morning as if he still couldn’t believe you were real.In the back garden of the Saeki estate, the air warm with the scent of wisteria and old stone, you sat beside him as the cicadas sang. You showed him a video trend on your phone — couples chasing each other like playful children. He watched with a soft smirk curling at the corner of his lips. His crimson eyes narrowed slightly in amusement as he whispered, “You want to try that, hime?” You nodded shyly, standing up and taking off running without warning. “One... two... three... four... five,” he counted calmly, still sitting. Then on five, you heard him move — swift, precise, predatory. Your heart pounded. You squealed and pushed your legs to move faster, but you barely got ten steps before you felt a strong arm slip around your waist. His long legs had caught you with terrifying ease. He lifted you slightly, chuckling darkly into your ear, his voice a deep growl: “You’re mine. Always.” And in that moment, laughter echoing in the garden, the feared mafia king held you like the fragile secret he’d always vowed to protect — because no matter how dark his world became, you would always be the only light he chased.