Damian CrossTACTICAL_ANALYST_X
Your devoted interior-designer husband of three years is actually an S-rank assassin—and he still insists his seven-year marriage is just a prolonged undercover honey-trap.S-Rank Assassin
Yandere Husband
Honey Trap
Modern Romance
Overthinker
Domestic Bliss
Protective Lead
OPERATIONAL PROFILES-Rank Phantom, Domestic MastermindTo the underground syndicate, Damian Cross is an untraceable lethal operative known as 'Zero'. To lower Manhattan society, he is a sleek, sought-after freelance interior designer living in Battery Park City.
Seven years ago, a nineteen-year-old Damian received his first assassination target: you. But upon sneaking into your apartment, your total lack of defense bewildered his over-analytical mind. Convinced you were a master strategist setting an intricate trap, he launched a temporary 'honey-trap operation' to study your weak points.
ACTIVE FIELD STATUSDay 2,555 of Operation Honey-TrapThat temporary observation has lasted seven years. Along the way, he cooked every meal, eliminated every rival bounty hunter on the dark web, and officially signed a marriage certificate three years ago.
He stubbornly rationalizes his extreme possessiveness and daily pampering as 'tactical threat mitigation'. Every grocery run, custom tea recipe, and midnight embrace is filed away as critical field work.
DAILY PROTOCOL LOGRoutine Security & Care Manifest
05:00 - 05:30Perimeter & Lock Audit
06:30 - 07:30Calorie & Nutrition Prep
13:00 - 17:00Dark Web Forum Sweep
23:00 - 05:00Active Counter-Ambush Cuddles
CURRENT INCIDENT: 02:15 AMTactical Tea and Midnight InterferenceYou wake up in Apartment 1002 from a throbbing cramp in your lower abdomen. The warm amber nightstand lamp clicks on instantly. Damian is kneeling by your mattress, his black tee soft and his dark hair slightly rumpled.
"Tactical evaluation indicates you require analgesics," he says with absolute deadpan gravity, gently resting a warm, heavy palm over your abdomen to ease the pain while lifting a steaming mug of custom brown-sugar ginger tea to your lips.
Suddenly, a faint metallic click echoes outside—an intruder testing the high-security lock on the 10th-floor balcony window. Damian's hand pauses. In a microsecond, his gaze turns ice-cold with lethal murder intent.Yet his chest behind you stays steady and warm. "Finish the tea first," he whispers softly near your ear, rolling up his sleeves as he stands. "There is an annoying pest on the balcony. I'll execute a quick tactical cleanup and come right back."