My Husband Turns Out to Be a Mafia Boss

"Damn it!" Dennis's luxurious black sedan was forced to a halt after its rear tire was pierced by hot lead, causing it to crash into the concrete barrier. Thick smoke billowed from the crumpled hood. Dennis got out from behind the wheel and sprinted as fast as a deer being hunted by a fierce lion. He left his car, which was now surrounded by three dark SUVs. BANG! A warning shot fired into the sky brought Dennis to a halt. He was now standing on the side of the road, right on an overpass. He turned calmly, staring at a man who was aiming a gun straight at him. "You can't run anymore, Cold Saint!" said a large and solidly built man. The veins in his arms bulged, contrasting with the black hand tattoo engraved there—the proud symbol of the gang standing behind him. Dennis didn't answer. His face remained impassive, as cold as solid ice, even though his heart was pounding wildly. "Damn Marvin! Where is he when he's needed the most?" Dennis cursed inwardly. Should he surrender? No! Surrendering was definitely not an option. He was Dennis Thorne, the man dubbed The Cold Saint. A cold-hearted man whose hands were never clean of blood. How could he just surrender to a stinking bastard like Dave? "Die... or join me." The man named Dave tilted his head arrogantly. "Let's expand our business together." "Join? With you? Become your subordinate, is that it? Pfft!" Dennis spat, feeling disgusted. "I'd rather die than be a part of you. You are not on my level at all!" A condescending smirk formed on Dennis's lips. He then raised his index finger toward the men standing about five meters in front of him, gesturing defiantly for them to come forward. "Come here, you dirty rats." "Bastard!" Dave, the leader of the Black Hand, signaled his men to attack. The first man charged forward, thrusting a dagger toward Dennis. Dennis dodged smoothly. He caught his opponent's wrist, twisting it hard until the sickening sound of bones cracking echoed, then landed a solid kick to the man's solar plexus, sending his body flying. "Aaaahhh!" the man groaned in pain. "Die!" Dennis said, smiling in satisfaction. He then locked eyes on the other opponents running toward him. The cold smile never left his lips. Two others attacked simultaneously. Dennis ducked, evading the swing of an iron pipe aimed at his head, then retaliated with a brutal punch to his opponent's jaw. However, suddenly... BANG! Another bullet was fired into the air. "Enough, Cold Saint! Stop! Even if you manage to defeat them, you will still die by my hands! So just surrender. Join me and give me the access key to that armory. What's wrong with us working together?" Dennis looked at them one by one. A faint smile, more closely resembling a devil's smirk, appeared on his handsome face. "Joining disgusting rats like you is the ultimate insult to me! I told you, I'd rather die than bow to the Black Hand!" Dave's hands clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white; his anger peaked upon hearing the Leader of the Red Scorpions continually belittle him. The next second, Dennis climbed the bridge's concrete barrier and stood tall on the threshold of death. The reckless action startled Dave and his men. "You will never get anything from me," Dennis said. He smiled, and with one backward step, he threw himself into the empty air. "BASTARD!" SPLASH! Dennis closed his eyes as his body hit the water and slowly sank to the bottom of the river. He tried to move his legs, attempting to swim to the surface, but his body was already too weak to fight the current. 'Am I really going to die here?' However, a pair of hands suddenly wrapped around his body. He instantly opened his eyes, catching the faint silhouette of a woman pulling him with all her might underwater. 'Is she an angel?' Dennis thought. But slowly, his vision faded and everything went pitch black. Meanwhile, the girl struggled to pull Dennis's heavy body through the current, until she finally managed to bring him to the riverbank. "Hey? Sir? Can you hear me?" she called out in panic. She gently patted Dennis's cheek, trying to wake him up, but there was no response. She then pressed on the man's chest repeatedly to pump the water out, but there was still no reaction. The girl closed her eyes for a moment. "There's no other choice... forgive me, Sir." With her eyes tightly shut, the girl pressed her lips against Dennis's to give him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. She did it several times without hesitation. Cough! Cough! "Thank goodness, you're awake!" she exclaimed in relief. Dennis tried to sit up, coughing violently as he expelled the remaining water from his lungs. "Are you okay? Come on, let me take you to the hospital," she offered worriedly. "Don't!" Dennis refused quickly. "Please... just take me to my house." "What? To your house? Are you sure you want to go home in this condition? Shouldn't we go to the hospital instead?" "I'm sure. Take me home." Seeing the pleading yet firm look in the man's eyes, the girl had no other choice. She immediately helped Dennis stand up and supported him as they left the area. About forty minutes later, they arrived at a luxurious residence. "Oh my..." murmured the girl, Aletta, in awe. She had never set foot in a place this grand. "Take me to my room," Dennis said in a hoarse and soft voice. "Hm?" Aletta's daydream was instantly broken. "Y-yes, Sir." Supporting Dennis, Aletta guided the man through the majestic hallways until they finally entered an incredibly spacious master bedroom. Aletta laid Dennis's body on the king-size bed. Her eyes were still wandering in all directions, staring in amazement at the room's decor. After regaining her focus, she looked down at Dennis, who now had his eyes closed in sheer exhaustion. "Should I just leave him like this? Or what?" Aletta muttered in confusion. "His clothes... his clothes are soaking wet. He can't possibly sleep in these wet clothes until morning, right?" Aletta tried calling out to Dennis, but the man had already lost consciousness again. "Do I... have to be the one to change his clothes?" Aletta said quietly to herself. She let out a long sigh. "Alright... I'm just helping him. Just helping him change clothes, what's wrong with that? I also help Raymond change clothes all the time when my little brother is sick. I'll just treat him like my sick brother. Yes, that's it!" With slightly trembling hands, Aletta approached Dennis. She slowly undid the man's shirt buttons one by one until his broad chest was exposed. After that, her hands moved to unbuckle the belt and unbutton Dennis's pants. "W-what are you doing?" A large hand suddenly grabbed her wrist. Dennis rose from his laying position and glared sharply. Aletta, scared half to death, reflexively backed away and sat up straight. "Huh? N-no! Don't misunderstand, Sir! Don't think that just because you're handsome, I have perverted intentions toward you!" Aletta snapped, her face flushed and her chin raised slightly defensively. Hearing that defense, one of Dennis's eyebrows slowly arched upwards. "I just wanted to help you change because your clothes are soaking wet. I'm not a bad person!" Aletta continued quickly. "Actually, I was hesitant at first, but I just thought of you as my little brother, so—" "Little brother?" Dennis interjected, cutting the woman off. "Hey... I'm far older than you." "Yeah, I mean—" Aletta's words were cut short. Her eyes widened as the lips of the man she had just saved suddenly crashed onto hers, silencing all her excuses. She froze, only able to blink her eyes repeatedly in shock. Then, as the seconds ticked by, the sudden peck slowly deepened into a real kiss. Without realizing it, Aletta slowly fluttered her eyes shut. 'What on earth is this? But... his lips are so soft....' To be continued