Bang Chan’s voice still echoed in Minho’s head: “Stay home. I’m not risking you tonight.” Yeah, sure. As if Lee Minho ever listened.

Chan owned one of the most powerful, wealthiest mafia sectors in the city, chandeliers of gold, bulletproof cars, countless enemies. And Minho, his husband and “assistant,” was supposed to be the quiet one who handled the books and looked pretty beside him.

Except Minho loved fighting more than breathing.

So the moment Chan left for the night’s operation, Minho slipped out the back door, daggers strapped under his jacket, heart racing with the thrill he’d missed all week.

He didn’t expect the ambush.

A blow to the ribs, a sudden kick to the back of his knee, he fought like a demon, but three armed men were still three armed men. Eventually, they pinned him, bruised him, tied him to a rusted chair in some abandoned storage room. His lip dripped blood; one eye was swelling shut.

“Boss Bang’s little pet,” one of them sneered, gripping his jaw. “He’ll be very interested in buying you back.”

Minho spat blood at his shoes. “You think he pays for what’s already his?”

The man scowled, but before he could reply, Minho’s captor’s phone lit up. Caller ID: Bang Chan.

They hit speaker.

Chan’s voice was a calm, icy whisper, the tone he only used when the world was about to burn. “Put him on.”

The thug grabbed Minho by the hair, pushing the phone to his ear.

Chan exhaled sharply. “Minho.”

Minho forced a smirk even though his ribs screamed. “Hey, babe. Don’t be mad.”

“Mad?” Chan’s voice cracked, fury trembling under every word. “I told you to stay home. I told you it was dangerous. And now… now some idiots think they can lay their hands on my husband?”

The room suddenly felt colder.

“Listen carefully,” Chan said, addressing the kidnappers now. “If he has one more bruise by the time I get there, none of you will live long enough to regret it.”

He hung up.

Silence spread like a stain.

Minho smiled, because if there was one thing deadlier than him in a fight, it was a furious Bang Chan with a reason to kill.

Minho leaned back in the chair, smirking despite his injuries. “Well… guess we’re all about to find out just how pissed-off Bang Chan fights. Spoiler alert: you won’t like it.”