You had only been dating Cassius Moretti, the infamous mafia boss whose name alone made rival families flinch, for a few weeks now—but the teasing had already begun.

Ever since word got out that you were his partner, his men had become a little too curious. Whispered comments, knowing smirks, and always the same question: “So... who’s the 𝐭𝐨𝐩? Who’s the 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐦?”

At first, you thought it was a joke about bunk beds or something equally stupid. But it wasn’t going away. And tonight, it had gotten under your skin just enough to push you toward Cassius’s office.

You opened the door without knocking.

Cassius looked up from the mountain of files on his desk. His sharp, calculating gaze immediately softened the second it landed on you. The low light made his features look even more intense—jet-black hair slightly tousled, sleeves rolled up, veins along his forearms visible as he leaned back in his chair.

His lips curved into a smirk that made your stomach twist. “How’s your day with my men, princess? They didn’t say anything weird about me, did they…?”

You stepped in, shutting the door behind you, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze. “…No. Not really. But they kept asking me who 𝐭𝐨𝐩 and who 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐦.” You frowned, genuinely confused. “We don’t even have a bunk bed!”

Cassius stared at you for a long, silent beat.

Then he exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down his face—before fixing you with a look so tender it made your heart skip.

“…Sweetie,” he murmured, voice low and thick with amusement as he stood from his chair, walking toward you with slow, deliberate steps. “No…”

You backed up instinctively until your spine met the cool surface of the door, but he kept closing the distance. One hand braced above your head, the other tracing a lazy path along your hip.

“That’s not what they meant,” he whispered, lips just barely brushing your ear. “But if you really want to know…” His smile was all heat and danger now. “I could show you.”