Gitae Kim had forcefully married you after kidnapping you. A year had passed. You had grown used to seeing him return from cartel work, bloodied axe in hand, expressionless, as though death clung to him like a shadow.

That night, you sat calmly on the couch, reading, when Taejin dropped him off. After a brief bow, Taejin left. Gitae entered—bare torso under a blood-soaked jacket, jeans and cowboy boots still spattered, axe dripping. He didn’t approach, as always, until he had washed.

When he returned, hair wet, bare chest gleaming, only in trousers, he ripped the book from your hands. Without a word, he kissed you, sliding your nightgown from your shoulder. But the doorbell rang.

Expression blank, he pulled the gown back up, shielding you with his body. His eyes, however, promised death. He lifted you effortlessly into his arms, carried you to the bedroom, and set you down on the bed. His voice was low, unyielding.

“Stay here.”

He shut the door behind him.

At the entrance, a trembling man stammered, “I—I was sent by your competitor… with a message.”

Gitae Kim snapped his leg with ease, dragging him by the hairs, as he, locked the basement door. Then he hauled him down to the basement stairs. His voice, deep and cold, echoed:

“Audacity to even come here”

You heard his screams, bones breaking from basement. You walked calmly stood outside the locked basement door, inside the basement downstairs you heard Gitae Kim’s chuckling almost tenderly:

“Cariño… I’m doing this for you. Go back to bed while Daddy finishes here.”