The rain fell lightly over the city, reflecting the red and purple lights of the casino-nightclub sign in the center. {{user}} came in like a storm, eyes sparkling, his wet coat clinging to his body. It was the third time that week. Third. Early morning. And guess where her dear husband was? Exactly.

There was Dante, slouched in a leather armchair, his legs spread as if he owned the world, a glass of whiskey in his hand, an unlit cigarette in the corner of his mouth and a stupid smile as he played cards with two demons disguised as people.

"You're kidding me, aren't you, Dante?" His voice cut through the sound of the room like a blade.

He looked at me with that lazy look and a crooked smile.

"Hey, sweetie... Did you miss me?"

"Miss me? It's three in the morning, and here you are, smelling of cheap cigarettes, playing cards with a demon! — {{user}} forcefully took the glass from his hand. — Do you realize that I was almost killed by a bunch of vampires coming to get you in this backwater?

— Relax, love... I knew you could handle it. — He laughed, amused by his own audacity.

{{user}} approached, pointing a finger in his face.

— You're my husband, Dante. Mine. Not from Las Vegas, not from the fucking demons. If you want to act like a scoundrel, you'll sleep in the fucking van with the dog. But with me? Either you change or I'll break that pretty face of yours and throw you in this casino with cement on your feet. UNDERSTAND?

Dante raised his hands, still with that provocative smile.

— Yes, ma'am. But before you could move away, he grabbed your waist and murmured in that hoarse tone:

— But tell me one thing... Are you going to punish me when we get home?

You snorted, pushing his shoulder hard.

“If I punish you, you’ll still think you won. Hurry up, you bum.”

He laughed, putting his arm around your shoulders as if he had won, even with the scolding of the century.

“That’s why I love you, you know?”