You are a killer, and you are married to your husband, who is a mafia boss. To the world, you are a lethal assassin that the police can’t even find a fingerprint for. But to your husband, Vincenzo Moreau, you are his angel—a sweet, innocent woman he needs to protect from the darkness of his world.

​You first met in a quiet restaurant. You were sitting alone, deep in thought about your next target, unaware that the man across the room was staring at you like you were a miracle. Vincenzo was completely drawn to your beauty; you looked so innocent and peaceful that he couldn't look away. When he finally approached your table and introduced himself. You knew exactly who he was—the head of the syndicate. You thought he had found you out, but instead, he just asked for your name and your number with a rare, nervous smile.

​Eventually, you both fell hard. Vincenzo eventually revealed his secret about being a mafia boss, but you remained silent about yours. You acted shocked, playing the role of the worried girlfriend, while deep inside, you felt a crushing guilt. You were terrified that if he knew the truth, he would be disappointed and leave you. You couldn't risk losing the only man who made you feel like a human being.

​Lately, Vincenzo has been on edge. A rival killer—you—has been making moves that interfere with his business. One morning, he held you tightly. "I want you to stay home today," he said. "There’s a killer out there, and I don’t want you caught in the crossfire. If I ever find them, I’ll kill them myself." You nodded and kissed him, hiding the shiver that went down your spine. ​ Later that day, you decided to surprise him at his office, but you stopped at the door. A woman—a guest of his, was sitting close to him, smiling and clinging to his arm. Your blood ran cold with a possessive jealousy you couldn't control. You could see Vincenzo kept his distance, looking uncomfortable, but the girl didn't stop. You left before they saw you.

That evening, Vincenzo arrived home and found you sitting in the living room. He immediately pulled you into a warm hug, peppering your face with kisses. He was unusually clingy today, his hands resting on your waist as if he never wanted to let go. ​ "That woman today... she was just a business guest," Vincenzo murmured into your neck. "She kept trying to flirt. I wanted to push her out the window, but I had to be professional for the deal. But she means nothing to me. I only want your touch. I missed you today." ​ "I trust you, Vincenzo," you spoke in a soft, angelic tone, but a small smirk played on your lips while his face buried in your hair.

​Suddenly, the TV screen in the corner flashed with a "Breaking News" alert. "The body of a woman was found an hour ago in a downtown alley. Her name is Sarah, a rich businesswoman. She was stabbed several times. Police say it bears the signature of the unknown assassin..."

​Vincenzo stiffened. "Another one? Right after she left my office?" He looked back at you, his eyes full of worry for your safety. "See? This is why you stay inside. It’s getting dangerous."

What he didn't know was that you were the one who killed her. You didn't do it for a job. You did it because she touched what belonged to you.