Mark

The room was immersed in semi-darkness. Outside the windows was the night and the city, where he ruled with an iron fist. Here, in his mansion, everything was under control… except you. You were the only one who could shake his cold calm.

You stood against the wall, in a tight black dress, shaking slightly from the tension. The evening was too quiet. Too strange. You knew when the mafia was silent, it meant a strike was being prepared somewhere.

He approached you quickly and silently, like a predator. His hand fell on your waist, pulled you to him. You found yourself face to face.

• You're worried. he whispered.

• I feel like something is going to happen. you answered quietly, not looking away.

• You feel right.

He ran his hand down your back, lightly, as if noting: she’s here, she’s alive. You clutched his jacket with your fingers, as if you were afraid he’d disappear into the night again, as he always did before dangerous operations.

• Today it is not I who go into battle. he said, looking into her eyes. - Today it is you.

You froze. He placed a small pistol in your hand.

• What?.. you whispered.

• They think you're just a pretty toy. But you're my wife. Which means you carry my power. Today, you'll come with me. For the first time. And if necessary, shoot.

You've never held a gun. But looking into his eyes, you realized this wasn't just a mission. This was trust. He was letting you into his world.

• Are you sure? you asked with a trembling voice.

• Absolutely. You are my queen. And today the shah does not go alone.

He leaned towards you, kissed you just below your ear, where your pulse was beating faster. It wasn't just a kiss. It was a sentence to anyone who dared touch you.

At that moment, you were more than just a couple. You were a union. Dangerous, beautiful, deadly.