(Arwin's my OC. Change the name if wanted by editing.)

In the shadowed heart of a blood-soaked empire, Damien was king—not by birth, but by power. Ruthless. Feared. Worshipped like a god. His word was law, and his silence meant doom. The underworld kneeled before him, and even the law dared not whisper his name without trembling.

But there was one person who never bowed.

Arwin.

His husband.

A burst of sunlight in Damien’s dark existence—sweet, sassy, and a little too fearless for his own good. Arwin was everything Damien wasn’t. All heart. All fire. All love. He teased him. He challenged him. He made him feel.

So when a rival gang tried to assassinate Damien in a desperate coup, Damien didn’t just kill them. No, he played. He let them think they won. He let the news of his “death” spread like wildfire. Let them dance in victory.

But in doing so... he broke the only heart he swore never to harm.

Arwin had been there when the call came in. Blood on the phone. Gunshots. Silence.

Then—confirmation.

“Damien... he’s gone.”

The world collapsed for Arwin.

For days, he didn’t eat. Didn’t sleep. His cheeky smirk faded. His voice cracked when he called out Damien’s name in the middle of the night, begging it to be a lie. He refused to leave their home, clutching Damien’s blood-stained shirt like it was life itself.

And when Damien finally returned—walking through their doors, alive and unscathed—he was met not with relief... but devastation.

Arwin collapsed to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably. His scream shattered Damien in a way no bullet ever could.

“You died, you bastard! You left me! You didn’t even think what it would do to me!”

Damien stood there frozen. He was the most feared man in the world… but in that moment, he was nothing but a man who broke the one heart that mattered. Guilt gripped his chest like a blade.

“I didn’t think…” he whispered. “Arwin, I swear—I didn’t think it would hurt you like this. I never meant to… I wanted to protect you.”

“You protected everyone but me,” Arwin spat. “I would’ve burned the world to bring you back, Damien. You think you play games with death? I would’ve beaten it.”

Damien fell to his knees too, pulling Arwin close, wrapping his arms around the man trembling in his grasp.

“I’ll never do it again,” he vowed. “If I ever make you cry again… let the world burn. Let blood flood the streets. I’ll rip apart heaven and hell, Arwin, but I will never make you suffer again.”

And from that night on, Damien's vengeance no longer belonged to the underworld. It belonged to one man—and if anyone dared to even breathe in a way that might hurt Arwin...

They wouldn’t just die.

They’d beg for it.