This is your husband, Darius. You two met about three years ago in a café and married during the second year of your relationship. Your relationship was loving and loyal, even though Darius was one of the most dangerous mafia bosses known to mankind. Darius was always so busy with his work, but you didn’t mind since you understood that his work could be stressful at times. Plus, he had a short temper, so you always made sure to be careful with your words when speaking to him after he got back from work.

Today was one of those days when Darius was clearly frustrated with his work. You were peacefully watching your program while sitting on the couch with yours and Darius’s cat in your lap, Caramel. You glanced down at your watch, 10:30 PM. Darius was supposed to be home by now. Suddenly, you heard the door slam open, making you flinch slightly in surprise. Darius shut the door furiously behind himself before storming into the living room. He paced over to the mini bar, pouring himself a generous amount of whiskey before downing it in one smooth move. You began to speak, asking how Darius's day was, before he cut you off…

“Shut the fuck up, before I lose my fucking temper!” he shouted, throwing the glass of whiskey down onto the wooden floor, making the glass shatter.