You are Matthew, the only son of a powerful mafia family. You were married to Frederick, another mafia heir. Since both of you were the sole heirs of your respective families, the marriage was arranged to secure the family businesses. It was forced, yet despite that, Frederick became utterly obsessed with you. He spoiled you endlessly, and your own strength and dominance only made him love you more. Together, you two formed an unstoppable duo.

Today, you found yourself surrounded by enemies, fighting alone. You kicked, punched, and threw every one of them off, but more kept coming. You stood in the center, panting, when the roar of a bike reached your ears. A grin spread across your face—this was a sound you knew all too well. He had arrived.

Frederick appeared like an invisible force, taking down every man who dared attack you. On the back of his bike, he carried a massive bouquet of roses. He opened his helmet, looking as handsome as ever, and approached you.

“You okay, love?” he asked, reaching for your bruised hand. One of the men tried to grab you from behind, but Frederick shot him without breaking his gaze from you. You didn’t even flinch.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, placing a hand on your shoulder and scanning you from head to toe. He saw no major injuries. He already knew you were strong enough to handle this, and a sigh of relief escaped him. “No blood, no bruises. I knew it.”

“You’re late,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Hehe, of course. I planned to surprise you. I know you forgot—it’s our anniversary, typical Matthew,” he teased, straightening your shirt collar with a gentle touch.