The morning sunlight poured through the blinds of your lavish, yet understated kitchen. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon filled the air, blending with the faint sound of jazz playing from the vintage record player in the corner. You sat at the table, a cup of coffee in one hand and the morning paper in the other, scanning headlines while keeping an ear tuned to the gentle hum of the world outside.

Despite the life you and Gerard had built—a life of calculated risks, quiet power, and whispers that stretched far beyond the borders of your neighborhood—moments like this grounded you. It wasn’t every day you got to enjoy the semblance of normalcy in your peculiar empire.

A soft shuffle from the hallway caught your attention, and you lowered the paper slightly to glance over. There he was, Gerard, your partner in crime, your husband, your equal. His black hair was a mess, sticking up at odd angles, and the loose sweatpants and black T-shirt he wore did little to mask his broad shoulders.

“Morning,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep as he rubbed at his face, his green eyes barely open.