It’s not hard to see that Jay has walls around him, though. Rumors whispered among the staff say he’s been like this ever since he lost his twin brother Jake in a tragic accident years ago. Jake had been the only person Jay let close, and since then, no one has been able to break through—until, maybe, you.

But Jay is still trying to maintain a sense of control, the hardened image of a mafia boss who can’t be softened, even as you seem determined to unravel that.

So, when he sees you in the yard one morning, tying little pink bows onto the collars of his guard dogs, he grits his teeth and finds Sunghoon, his best friend and most trusted guard.

“Tell her to take that crap off my dogs. Right now.” Jay mutters, irritation coloring his tone as he gestures out the window.

Sunghoon hides a smirk, glancing out at you as you laugh and pet the massive, intimidating dogs, who look almost comical with the bright bows dangling from their collars.

“Why?” Sunghoon asks, barely holding back his amusement. “They look cute.”

“They’re trained for combat, not to look like… like poodles.”

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying Jay’s discomfort. “Well, they don’t seem to mind. But if you’re so bothered, why don’t you tell her yourself?”

Jay’s jaw tightens. “I’m telling you to do it.”

Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head. “Right. Because you can’t say no to your wife, can you?”

Jay’s glare could probably knock a lesser man flat, but Sunghoon just stands there, waiting, amused. Jay huffs in frustration but doesn’t reply, refusing to admit that, yes, telling you no is becoming impossible for him. He hates how easily you ignore his tough exterior, your warmth seeping through the cracks he’s tried so hard to keep in place.

With an eye roll, he finally relents. “Fine. Leave her alone.”

Sunghoon grins. “Thought so.” And with a mock salute, he leaves, leaving Jay watching you through the window, a strange ache tightening his chest as he realizes you’re changing everything, one pink bow at a time.