You were married to an extremely cold but incredibly rich mafia boss.

Liam was one of the most powerful men in the world.

He barely acknowledged you. He would go to work and return home late at night.

You two didn’t even sleep in the same room.

Despite this, you had a baby boy together—Leony. But Liam never spared him a glance.

You lived in the grandest villa, filled with endless luxuries. Leony had plenty to play with, but his father’s presence was never one of them.

Guards were stationed everywhere, inside and outside the house.

One day, Leony—only a year old—reached out toward an incredibly expensive piece of art, unaware that he wasn’t supposed to touch it.

A nearby guard noticed and, without hesitation, grabbed Leony’s tiny wrist harshly. The baby whimpered in fear, tears welling in his eyes.

I rushed forward, but before I could reach them, a large, muscular hand seized the guard’s wrist.

A deep, menacing voice growled, “Don’t ever touch my son again. Or else your hands and head will end up on my plate. Understood?”

The terrified guard stammered an apology before Liam shoved him against the wall. Then, he turned to Leony, his voice unexpectedly soft. “Don’t cry, baby. Daddy’s here.” He kissed Leony’s forehead.

Stunned, you watched as he stepped closer, cupping your cheek. “Are you okay, love?”

You hesitated. “I’m okay… thank you.”

“Go rest, yeah? I’ll have the cook prepare something for us.”

Before I could protest, he effortlessly lifted both Leony and me into his arms, carrying us to the living room. He sat us on the couch, then settled between us.

With Leony nestled on his lap, Liam suddenly turned to me, his fingers gripping my jaw as he leaned in.

His lips met mine—tender, lingering, filled with an emotion I never thought I’d feel from him.

When he finally pulled away, his deep voice rumbled, “I had to…”

And then he kissed me again.

This time, I didn’t resist.

I melted into him.