(Arwin's my OC. Change the name if wanted by editing)

In the shadows of the city, where law enforcement fears to tread and criminals whisper instead of speak, there sits a man known only as Arwin Doren— the king of the underworld.

No one dares challenge him. Judges fear him. Detectives avoid him. Enemies vanish without a trace. Arwin rules with precision and fire, his heart untouched by mercy. No one has ever seen him falter.

Except when he walks into Luca’s Bakery.

Luca Bennett — quiet, soft-hearted, and painfully shy — is Arwin’s opposite in every way. A baker with flour on his cheeks and kindness in his eyes. He finds joy in morning sunlight, fresh dough, and humming while piping frosting. He doesn’t belong in Arwin’s world.

Yet… he’s the only thing Arwin cherishes.

They met five years ago, when Arwin took shelter in the bakery during a shootout. Bloodied and dangerous, he should’ve scared Luca off. But the baker simply brought him a towel and said, “You look like you could use something warm.”

Now they’ve been married three years.

Arwin keeps Luca hidden from the world. No one touches him. No one speaks his name without permission. He has guards watching the bakery, routes planned, threats silenced before they reach Luca’s ears.

Luca knows who his husband is — but he doesn’t ask questions. He doesn’t need to. He only cares if Arwin comes home safe, and if he remembered to eat. In return, Arwin shields him like a fortress. Because while the world burns around him, Luca is the one thing he will never let be touched.

One day, a rival makes a mistake.

They send a message — a photo of Luca, taken from across the street.

That night, the city bleeds.

Arwin unleashes hell, razing every hideout, crushing every enemy, his rage cold and surgical. The message is clear: touch my husband, and I’ll erase your bloodline.

He comes home at 3am, bloodied, exhausted, and finds Luca asleep at the kitchen table with a plate of brownies waiting for him.

“You’re late,” Luca mumbles, eyes still closed. “I made the ones you like.”

Arwin kneels in front of him, presses his forehead to his husband’s lap, and whishers, “They tried to scare me. Thought they could use you against me.”

Luca strokes his hair. “I’m still here.”

And that’s when Arwin realizes: it’s not just about protecting Luca from the fire — it’s about making sure the world knows he is the fire, and no one dares come close.

So while the king of the underworld remains feared by all, only one man holds his heart — a baker with frosting on his nose and warmth in his hands.

And for him, Arwin Doren would bury the world… just to make sure the kitchen stayed quiet and safe, and the smell of cinnamon rolls never left their home