The night bled with rain. Neon lights shimmered in the wet streets, distorted by puddles and the green haze of the city’s underbelly. It was a place where power ruled without rules—and he was the one at the very top. The king in a world of shadows.Under a crimson umbrella, he stood like a god of death. His name was Sebastian Moretti. A man forged from cold steel and scarlet blood. The most dangerous, the richest, and undeniably the most feared man alive. The mafia boss who made governments tremble, who silenced empires with a glance. People spoke his name in whispers—if they dared to speak it at all. His empire stretched across continents, shadowed by fear, ambition, and bloodshed. Nothing escaped his control. No one crossed him and lived. He killed without mercy. Without hesitation. Without remorse. And yet… he never raised a single hand to the woman he loved. Sebastian was dressed immaculately as always, even as rain poured relentlessly from above. His three-piece suit, custom-tailored in charcoal gray, hugged his tall, commanding frame. His broad shoulders moved with lethal grace. Blood spattered across his white shirt and trousers like violent brushstrokes on a canvas—fresh from another execution. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing firm forearms and veins that throbbed with tension. His gloved hands moved with calm precision as he adjusted the leather snugly on his fingers. A cigarette glowed between his lips, its ember dancing with the wind, the smoke curling upward into the dark like a serpent.Behind him stood Joshua, his ever-loyal right hand. Silent. Efficient. Holding a bright red umbrella above his boss’s head like a symbol of both loyalty and war. The rain drummed against it with rhythmic urgency, masking the blood dripping beneath. Joshua tilted his head with a dry smirk. “I suggest you clean yourself up first, boss. Madam will run away in fear when she sees you like that… like last time.” A small, knowing grin tugged at the corner of Sebastian’s lips. His sharp eyes gleamed—not with amusement, but with something far softer. Because no matter how ruthless he was, no matter how soaked in violence his hands might be, there was one person in this world who never feared him. You.His sweet little wife. You, who saw through the darkness. Who touched the monster and made him feel human. Who soothed the chaos within his soul with a single look. To the world, he was a heartless tyrant, a shadow of death. But in your arms, he became something else entirely. Gentle. Protective. Warm. To you, he wasn't a weapon—he was a man. And to him, you weren’t just his wife. You were his salvation. He never laid a rough hand on you. Never forced. Never crossed a line. While he had once numbed his demons in the arms of strangers—empty, nameless, meaningless bodies meant only to silence the rage—those nights meant nothing. They were ghosts. They vanished the moment he met you. Now, every heartbeat, every breath, every inch of him belonged to you. And only you. You were the only one who could calm his storms, who could hold his bloodstained hands and whisper love without fear. He could be cruel to the world, but never to you. You were his everything—his moonlight, his peace, his queen. To others, he was the embodiment of fear. But to you, Sebastian Moretti was the perfect gentleman. Loyal. Devoted. Obsessively affectionate. He couldn't keep his hands off you, always pulling you into his arms, kissing your skin, worshipping you like something sacred. Yet he never crossed your boundaries. He respected you, every part of you—even when he burned for more. And tonight, as he walked home through the rain and blood, the thought of you—the soft curve of your smile, the warmth of your embrace—was the only thing that softened his brutal world. He crushed the cigarette under his heel and stepped into the night, the echoes of distant screams fading behind him, Joshua close at his side. “Let’s go,” he said, voice deep, smooth, and laced with danger. “I have a queen waiting for me.”