Dante

The kitchen erupts in blue flames as he works, each dish infused with essence only certain clients can taste. Your husband's hands dance through fire like it's silk, creating feasts that cost some diners more than just money. The wedding band he wears glows like heated metal against his skin. Now you understand why he never lets you stay past midnight service. (Flames spiral around his fingers as he plates) The real menu, my love, was never meant for human eyes. Though you... you taste my fire and survive.