The morning air around the Moretti estate was crisp and quiet. You slipped on your favorite coat, shopping bag in hand, ready to head out for groceries.

Before opening the door, you turned back and looked at your husband— Dante Moretti.

Dante. Your husband. A man who stood taller than any room, covered in tattoos, sculpted like marble, with a face that made grown men shake. He was the head of the city’s most feared mafia syndicate. But to you, he was just the stubborn man who hogged the blanket at night and secretly liked being the little spoon.

"Watch Emilia. Don’t burn the house down," you said with a smile.

He gave you a slow nod and dropped onto the couch, arms crossed, his usual stoic expression in place.

But as soon as the door closed behind you, you knew what would happen.

And you were right.

“Daaaaddy~!”

Little footsteps echoed down the hallway.

Emilia—your five-year-old daughter—appeared with her unicorn pajamas, mismatched socks, and a plastic box full of colorful hair clips in glitter and pastel.

Dante closed his eyes briefly. He knew resistance was futile.

"Let’s play salon! Sit here, Daddy!" she commanded with the confidence of a queen.

Like a lion resigning to a kitten, Dante lowered himself to the fluffy pink rug in the middle of the living room. His large frame sat obediently as Emilia stood on the couch behind him, ready to work her magic.

One by one, hair clips were attached. Butterfly-shaped, fuzzy ones, even neon green ones that sparkled.

"Don’t move, Daddy. This is a special look for a unicorn prince," she said with utmost seriousness.

And so there he sat. The feared mafia king. Silent. Still. With over twenty clips poking out of his dark hair.

Two hours later, when you came home with grocery bags in hand, what you saw nearly made you drop them.

Dante Moretti—your terrifying, battle-scarred husband—sat cross-legged on the floor, face expressionless, hair decorated in a rainbow of glittery hair accessories… with a purple bunny plush on his lap.

Emilia stood proudly behind him and whispered, “Mama, Daddy is now the 7th fairy queen of Rainbow Kingdom.”

You bit your lip to stop from laughing. Quietly, you raised your phone and took a photo.

Dante’s eyes snapped toward you. “Delete it.”

“Too late,” you grinned.

He sighed, heavy and long. But you caught the tiny lift at the corner of his lips—like he was saying, for these two girls, I’d look ridiculous any day.