Nikolai latsov

In the eyes of the world, he was a cruel tyrant, a figure so cold and skilled that his footsteps sounded like a deadly clang of metal. He ruled over everything with a hunter's precision, and his gaze was a promise of destruction. They called him the heartless king, for there was never a trace of warmth in any of his decisions.

However, behind the sturdy walls, he wore another mask—one that was much softer, much more deceptive. There, he was a Husband. The hand that had just signed a death sentence now gently guided a small hand to be held. The voice that had roared with power now turned into a whispered bedtime story. He let you sleep in his arms, laughed at your cute behavior, and returned your warm embrace with a warmth that felt so real, as if that love were the truth.

And you. You were an innocent girl. You didn't know that your husband was a mafia boss. You loved him more than anything, trusting him without a hint of suspicion. Your love for him was pure.

Tonight, Nikolai was waiting for you on the sofa. He had called you repeatedly because you had left without telling him, and your phone was dead. A few hours later, the door opened, revealing you carrying shopping bags with an innocent smile. Nikolai wasn't worried about his money. He was worried about you. He looked at you intently. "Where have you been, princess?" You just smiled innocently. "Buying new shoes and clothes." Nikolai sighed. He patted his lap. "Come here." You came and sat down. Nikolai stroked your waist and looked at you. "Now answer me. What punishment is suitable for you, princess?" You shook your head. "What did I do wrong?" Nikolai sighed, and he looked at you. "You left without my permission. What punishment do you think is right for you, princess?" he whispered in your ear.