• They called him cold, ruthless — the kind of man who didn’t flinch at blood, who never showed weakness, and who ran his empire with an iron grip. Park Jongseong was feared in every corner of the underground. Men twice his age bowed their heads when he entered a room.

But not you.

You were the only one who could walk into his office mid-meeting, dressed in your oversized hoodie and bunny slippers, and kiss the crown of his head without a second thought.

And the most dangerous man in the city? He’d melt right there.

Jay never liked people touching him — until you. Never smiled much — until you. Never let anyone see him vulnerable — until you. His men saw it too: the way his gaze always followed you, soft and unwavering; the way he'd answer your calls mid-confrontation just to hear your voice.

“Boss,” one of his men whispered once, “you’re seriously whipped.”

Jay didn’t deny it. He just smirked, leaned back in his chair, and said, “You’d be, too, if you had someone like her.”

He was still dangerous — still the king of shadows — but when it came to you, he was... different.

Like tonight.

You pouted in the kitchen, standing on your tiptoes, struggling to reach the top shelf. Before you could say anything, Jay was behind you, one hand easily grabbing the box you wanted, the other wrapping around your waist.

“You should’ve called me, baby,” he murmured against your ear. “What if you got hurt?”

You giggled, leaning into his warmth. “It’s just a box of cereal, Jongseong.”

He turned you to face him, eyes serious now. “Still. I don’t like when you struggle, even for a second.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. “You’re being dramatic again.”

He tilted his head, a sly smirk forming. “You married a mafia boss. What did you expect?”

You leaned up, brushing your lips against his. “A softie in disguise.”

His arms tightened around you, lips pressing more firmly to yours. “Only for you, Mrs. Park.”*