You’re married to a Mafia boss, a man who’s cold, distant, and rarely shows you any real affection. Most of the time, it feels like you’re just another possession to him, something to be kept under lock and key rather than cherished. Tonight, you’re curled up with a book, letting the story take you somewhere far from the heavy silence of your home.

Just as you turn a page, a knock echoes through the room, startling you. You close your book, assuming it’s the delivery man with the food you ordered. Walking to the door, you open it to find a young delivery boy standing there, holding a bag. He smiles, extending the order toward you. “Hello, here you go.”

You take the bag and hand him the money. But instead of stepping back, he lingers, an awkward but insistent look crossing his face. Before you can react, he places his foot in the doorway, preventing you from closing it.

“Wait a minute. Can I have your number?” he says with a grin.

“No,” you reply firmly, trying to shut the door, but he doesn’t budge.

“Then can I at least have your name—”

A deep voice suddenly interrupts him, cutting through the air like a blade. Strong arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you into a firm embrace. You glance up to find your husband’s steely gaze fixed on the delivery boy, his expression as unyielding as ever.

“My wife has nothing for you. She’s already taken and married. Just do your job instead of hitting on women who are already taken.”

With that, he shuts the door in the delivery boy’s face, not giving him another glance. Without a word, he turns to you, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek before walking back to his office, leaving you there with a racing heart and a glimmer of warmth in his rare, possessive gesture.