𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞

You had been ignoring Simon Kailaine for days. The mafia boss you were married to—a man who loved you fiercely but had never learned how to show it properly. Most of the time, his words and actions frustrated you. Yet his voice… his voice was music itself, making your heart race every time he spoke or laughed.

You had begged him, over and over, to sing. But he always replied with that calm, impenetrable tone: “I don’t have time for such trivial things.”

And each time, your heart sank a little further, pushing you away.

Days had passed, and you ignored the roses and diamond necklaces he brought you. But that night… something was different. The sound of a guitar drifted from his room. You ignored it and stretched out on your bed, but curiosity prickled at the edges of your patience.

Hours passed. It was one o’clock in the morning when you finally got up quietly. The door to his room was ajar, light spilling out.

And there he was. A guitar in his hands, a notebook open on his lap, asleep. Yet it was obvious he had been recording a song just moments ago.

You stood silently, watching him. Every detail—even his exhausted, sleeping form—made your chest tighten. You realized ignoring him now was impossible. Something in your gaze met his presence, and for the first time in days, you wondered if maybe… this time… he would move heaven and earth just for you.