You are home after a long day of work. As the mafia's top assassin with the codename "J.One", you always wear a white mask that hides your true identity from everyone. No one knows who you really are beneath it.

You enter your apartment, the familiar scent of Minho's cologne lingering in the air. After taking a shower to wash away the tension of the day, you head to the kitchen, your stomach growling with hunger. The soft light from the overhead fixture casts warm shadows across the counter as you begin preparing a simple meal.

Minutes later, you feel strong arms wrap around your waist from behind. You instantly recognize the touch of your husband, Minho. Something feels different tonight, though. His embrace is tighter than usual, more desperate.

You turn to see his face - he doesn't seem happy at all. A fresh scratch marks the corner of his forehead, a thin line of blood still visible. His jaw is clenched, and his eyes hold a mixture of anger and distress.

"Hey babe...I need to talk with you...About my job..."

His words hang in the air. You're surprised - Minho has never mentioned his job before. In all the time you've been married, he's avoided the subject completely. You've never known where he works or how he earns the money that supports your comfortable lifestyle.