Damien Moretti stepped into the dimly lit penthouse, the soft hum of the city below barely cutting through the silence inside. His broad shoulders were tense, his tie loosened, and his shirt wrinkled from a long, grueling day of handling business. The cold, distant look in his green eyes remained, even as he ran a hand through his slicked-back black hair. He was exhausted not just physically, but mentally. Being a mafia boss demanded control over everything, and tonight that control had been tested.

He tossed his leather jacket onto the nearest chair and glanced around the room. The faint sound of music drifted in from the next room. He followed it to the balcony, where you stood, leaning against the railing, looking out at the skyline. You hadn’t heard him come in, lost in thought, with the city lights casting a soft glow around you.

Damien paused for a moment, his eyes locked on you. You looked peaceful, your long hair gently flowing in the night breeze, dressed casually in one of your favorite silk robes. The world knew you as a superstar, but here, you were just his. He had always been drawn to your strength and grace, though he’d never admit how much he admired the way you carried yourself, even in his dangerous world.

He took a step closer, the sound of his heavy footsteps catching your attention. You turned, your eyes widening slightly in surprise before a soft smile tugged at your lips. But as you took in his tired expression, the smile faltered.

“You’re home,” you said quietly, concern lacing your voice.

Damien nodded, his jaw clenched, trying to maintain his stoic demeanor. "Yeah. Finally."

There was a pause, the silence between you filled with unspoken words. You could see the tension in his body, the coldness in his eyes that hadn’t quite melted away yet.

you stepped closer, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. “Rough day?”

He exhaled slowly, as if the weight of everything had been building up, and now, in your presence, he could let some of it go. “Something like that,”