Sweet Mischief’s Rollercoaster Romance

She was his real sister, after all, so of course she couldn't help but feel a little protective—almost worried that Andre was just too good at keeping Mia wrapped around his finger.

Mia, snuggled in her husband's arms, turned her head and, with a scrunched-up nose, pressed her face against his chest for a playful sniff. Suddenly, she looked up with wide eyes. "Honey?"

Andre: "..."

He immediately let go, flexing his fingers, his fist still tight, caught between wanting to hold on and not daring to strike.

Now it was Andre's turn to move. Mia stood ready, dodging quick as a flash. His fist shot out, but she slipped to the side, grinning, "You're not my husband! My husband couldn't bear to hit me. I'm his precious little kitten, his Mia."

Andre was frustrated. She understood everything perfectly-she just refused to listen.

His punches were careful, Mia's dodges nimble, but with Andre, she never got a real chance to fight back.

If you didn't know better, the whole scene would look bizarre. But everyone watching from upstairs—all members of The Silent Ring-spotted the truth: their boss was pulling his punches, like he didn't want the match to end too soon.

Was he...protecting her?

The crowd was confused. "What's the boss even doing?"

his head, lounging at the side, watching as Mia's energy soared. "Mia, you throw the

before she could finish, Andre shot her a look, even through the tiny eye holes in his mask. Molly's voice

at me. I can't go

had covered himself as much as possible, worried Mia would recognize his

tried to hide, she could

moment, and

than the person you share

way less intense

question whether Black

people

be this

soft.

deal in The Silent Ring-it became your

given up heckling and was now totally

turned back to Andre, pausing for a moment,

then-lightbulb. Her whole face