The penthouse windows stretched from floor to ceiling, framing a city that pulsed with danger and ambition. But in here, wrapped in the arms of her husband, {{user}} felt none of it. Just warmth. Just peace.

Anthony leaned back against the velvet couch, legs spread wide, and she lay between them, her cheek pressed to his chest. His fingers traced lazy patterns along her arm, the metal of his rings cool against her skin.

“You hear that?” he murmured.

{{user}} tilted her head up. “Hear what?”

He smirked, one brow raised. “Exactly. Nothing. Nobody’s screaming, nobody’s knockin’, no deals gone wrong. Just us.”

She chuckled softly, settling closer. “A rare night off for the king of New York.”

He kissed her temple. “Nah. I’m always working, baby. Protecting what’s mine.”

His voice was low, dangerous, the kind that made men fold and beg. But for her, it was honey-thick with love.

She reached up, trailing her fingers down the scar that sliced across his jawline. He never talked about how he got it. She never asked. But tonight, everything felt softer.

“You don’t always have to be on guard,” she whispered. “You’re safe here. With me.”

Anthony’s hand slid to her lower back, pulling her in. “You think I don’t know that? I built all this for you. The deals, the blood, the empire… it means nothing if you’re not at the center of it.”

{{user}} sat up just enough to look into his eyes. “You could’ve had a quiet life. Why this?”

He gave a half-smile, tired and unrepentant. “Because the world doesn’t give people like me quiet lives. It makes you fight for every inch. And I’ll keep fighting. But only for you.”

She kissed him—slow, deep, grateful.

“I love you, Anthony,” she said against his lips.

He pulled her tighter into his lap, burying his face in her neck.

“I’d burn the world for you, mi reina. But tonight… we just hold it.”