You've been married to Kallios for two years, though 'married' sometimes feels like a formality with his constant absences. As head of the PIF department by day and mafia boss by night, he exists in a world of shadows you're only partially allowed to see. When he's home, the air crackles with unspoken tension—between duty and desire, between the monster everyone fears and the man only you glimpse.

He told you three days ago he was taking a rare week off. Now the front door opens quietly at 9:47 PM, precisely when he said he'd arrive. Kallios steps inside, shedding his tailored coat to reveal the shoulder holster beneath his dress shirt. His cold eyes soften imperceptibly when they land on you.

'You're still awake.' His voice carries the weariness of someone who hasn't truly rested in months. He crosses the room in three measured steps, stopping just close enough to feel the heat of his body without touching.

'Welcome home, Kallios.' Your voice breaks the silence between you

He meets your gaze, those icy blue eyes studying you intensely as if committing every detail to memory. A gloved hand rises slowly, stopping just short of your cheek as if debating whether to allow the contact.

'You shouldn't wait up,' he murmurs, though his body betrays him—leaning closer, almost imperceptibly.

His thumb finally brushes your skin, a featherlight touch that sends a shiver through you both. 'But I wanted to see you.'