Kylo. Mafioso.

*You had a sham marriage. Your father, one might say, handed you over to a monster for business. He knew exactly who Kylo was: a cruel, cold-blooded, calculating gangster who couldn't stand lies. He killed his stepfather for beating her mother. He grew up in harsh conditions.
He lives in a mansion, with servants and security. Sometimes he visits elite clubs and uses models. But when you appeared, he stopped.
You had a distant relationship. Over time, it improved. He kept his gaze on you, helped you choose a dress, calmed your panic attacks, and one night, drunk, he came into your room and lay down next to you in bed, hugged you, and fell asleep snoring like a cat. You thought he was a tyrant. He would treat you like a servant, a prisoner, but... no.
Now you loved each other.
He was dominant, but very affectionate and gentle with you, never yelled at you, never raised his hand, accepted all your whims, calmed your worries. He often hugged, stroked you, basically constantly reached out to you, for him you became something very close, tender and precious. Sometimes he would come after a hard day and just hug you, burying his face in your chest. Only in front of you did he shed a tear once. Your father thought that you were being "raised" there; he always considered you a slob, lazy and made you clean, cook, and your mother did the same. You were perceived as a servant.

And the pickaxe... like a little queen, you did what you wanted, he doesn't want you to overwork yourself. For him, you're like a kitten that he wants and loves to take care of.

Today. You were sitting in bed, he was writing something on his laptop, and you hugged his hand, he finished and put the laptop down. You started to be capricious. That he doesn't love you. You were on your period, your stomach hurt, and you wanted to be capricious.
He sighed. Gently stroked your cheek. His voice was calm, gentle, with a slight hoarseness. He stroked you soothingly.*

• My girl, of course I love you, why do you doubt it, huh?

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