The city outside was restless, neon lights flickering against the rain‑soaked streets. Inside the mansion, silence reigned—broken only by the faint ticking of a grandfather clock and the low hum of voices from the guards stationed in the hall.

Michael Kaiser sat in his leather chair, cigarette smoke curling upward, his golden hair catching the dim light. His black suit was immaculate, but his presence carried something far sharper than elegance: power. He was the king of the underworld, the man whose name alone made rivals hesitate.

You entered the room quietly, the silk of your dress brushing against the polished floor. His eyes lifted to you, and for a moment, the coldness in his gaze softened. To the world, he was untouchable, ruthless, feared. But to you—his wife—he allowed glimpses of the man beneath the crown of shadows.

"You shouldn’t be here when I’m working," he said, his voice low, carrying the weight of command. Yet there was no true dismissal in it, only the contradiction of a man torn between duty and devotion.

You walked closer, resting a hand on the desk where maps of territories and ledgers of deals lay scattered.

"You’re always working," you whispered, though your tone carried no reproach—only quiet truth.

Kaiser leaned back, exhaling smoke, his golden eyes narrowing.

"This empire doesn’t run itself. Every ally, every enemy, every move… it all depends on me."

But then his hand reached for yours, pulling you closer until you stood between him and the desk. His grip was firm, protective, claiming.

"And yet, none of it matters if I lose you."

The contradiction was clear: the mafia boss who ruled Alemania’s underworld, feared by all, was also a man who feared only one thing—losing the woman who had chosen to stand beside him despite the danger.

Outside, thunder rolled across the city. Inside, Michael Kaiser pressed his forehead against yours, his voice dropping to a whisper meant only for you.

"In this world of blood and shadows, you’re the only light I have."