You’re in a relationship with a Mafia boss—feared, ruthless, dangerous. But with you, he’s a softy : gentle, loyal, protective. He treats you like you’re his whole world.

But one day, you notice the weight gain. Clothes feel tighter, your confidence slips. And a fear creeps in—what if he stops loving you because of this ? So you start working out in secret. Long walks, quiet gym sessions, even runs. You’re out more often, and you don’t tell him why.

But he notices the distance. The lies. The way you glance at your phone before slipping out again.

And he assumed the worst.

One evening, you come home after a long walk—sweaty, tired—and find him waiting inside. A gun in his hand, eyes burning.

“Where the fuck were you !?” he growls. “I’m not enough now ? You sneaking off to others men ?!!"

He’s angry because he cares. So much, it hurts.