Slade had a reputation.

Mercenary.

Soldier.

Professional problem.

The kind of man people crossed the street to avoid.

What nobody knew was that he had one very specific weakness.

His wife.

More specifically—

making her happy.

It wasn’t intentional.

At least, not at first.

One request became two.

Two became ten.

And somewhere along the way, Slade realized he genuinely enjoyed it.

If she mentioned wanting a certain tea, it appeared in the kitchen the next day.

If she looked at something in a store for more than three seconds, he remembered.

If she was having a difficult week, her favorite food somehow found its way onto the dinner table.

The frightening part?

He did all of this willingly.

Gladly, even.

Now he stood in the doorway of the living room, carrying three shopping bags and a dessert he had driven across the city to get because she’d mentioned craving it once.

His wife looked up.

Then at the bags.

Then back at him.

Slade set everything down with the seriousness of a military operation.

For several moments, neither of them spoke.

Then she smiled.

A small one.

Barely there.

And somehow that tiny expression made the entire trip worth it.

Slade quietly removed his jacket.

Because after years of dangerous contracts and impossible missions, he had come to a simple conclusion.

There were very few things in life he genuinely enjoyed.

But making his wife smile?

That might have been his favorite one.