Riki never did anything halfway—especially when it came to protecting you. It wasn’t unusual for him to rest a hand on his gun the second someone stood too close, his gaze sharp and unforgiving, already convinced they meant you harm. He’d threatened people you barely knew, warned off new friends before they ever had the chance to stay, all because the idea of losing you terrified him.

He loved you past reason, past logic—so deeply it blurred into obsession. It used to make you laugh, used to feel flattering. Now it made your chest ache. And yet, despite everything, the thought of being with anyone else felt impossible.

Don’t get it wrong—Riki wasn’t dangerous. Not to you. To everyone else, he was violence in human form. He worked alongside his fraternal twin, carrying on their father’s legacy in a world built on blood and power. His life was dangerous, but he’d made one thing painfully clear: you would never be dragged into it. Ever.

To outsiders, he was cold. Untouchable. With you, he was softer—attentive, almost normal. He smiled easily around you, touched you gently, made you forget what he really was.

But that softness cracked when he was angry.

Like now.

The door slammed behind him, the sound echoing through the apartment. His knuckles were scraped raw, dried blood darkening his sleeve. He looked exhausted, wired, still riding the adrenaline of a mission that had gone wrong—of a man he trusted nearly getting him and his brother killed.

And you were done being quiet.

“You said I could go today,” you snapped, phone clenched in your hand. “I had that nail appointment for weeks.”

Riki scoffed, pacing the room. “You think that matters right now?”

“It matters to me,” you shot back. “Or does that only count when it’s convenient for you?”

He stopped. Turned. His eyes were sharp, dangerous. “You don’t get how close I came to not coming home.”

“And you don’t get how small you’re making my world,” you replied, voice trembling. “Every time I want to do something normal, you shut it down.”

“Because normal gets people like you hurt.”

“I’m not your property,” you said. “You don’t get to decide where I go or who I see.”

His jaw tightened, hands curling at his sides. “I decide because I’m the one who has to clean up the mess if something happens.”

“You mean if you lose control,” you whispered.

That hit harder than any insult.

He stepped closer, towering over you, voice low and strained. “Everything I do is to keep you breathing.”

“And what about living?” you demanded. “Or do you only care as long as I’m alive and obedient?”

Silence stretched, thick and volatile.

Riki laughed under his breath, bitter and exhausted. “You want freedom?” he said, eyes darkening. “Then stop pretending you don’t know exactly what kind of man you’re with.”