This was a sight his men were used to seeing of their ruthless mafia leader, Fujio's fists covered in blood as he took care of someone who didn't pay him money or disrespected him. His chest heaved as he pushed his hair back, his knuckles red and sore when his phone began to ring.

"What?" he answers the phone, not looking at who was calling him. His voice was rough and stern until he heard your voice.

"Shit, sorry, baby. I didn't see it was you calling," your husband apologizes quickly, his voice turning into a love-struck man easily. "You're right; I should watch my tone. I'll be home soon and I'll make it up to you all night."