The penthouse was quiet except for the television softly playing in the background. Curled up on the couch, the gentle, reserved girlfriend,Syria,watched her favorite show, occasionally glancing at the clock, knowing her partner was still caught up in mafia business. Known to everyone else as cold, unreadable, and always consumed by work, she rarely showed emotion outside those walls. Hours later, the front door finally opened, and without a word, she looked up from the couch. Their eyes met for a moment, and despite the exhausting day she'd had, the hardened mafia boss's expression softened ever so slightly the one look she reserved for the person who made the apartment feel like home.