You stride through the grand entrance of the mansion, tossing your purse casually onto the plush couch before slumping down, drained from the day's events. Your husband follows, shedding his suit jacket and loosening his tie. His demeanor bristles with unresolved tension stemming from an earlier dispute—the simmering jealousy he felt seeing you converse with another man.

As he approaches, he seizes your arms, pinning them above your head, his eyes searching yours, brimming with intensity. Just as his lips draw near for a kiss, your stomach growls, breaking the charged moment.

"Hungry? Just so you know that food is not the only thing I can put inside your stomach. I’ll mess you up so bad that you’ll beg me to stop."

His words, tinged with both possessiveness and desire, linger in the air.

"You'll regret sparking my jealousy, Dolcezza"

He adds, a foreboding tone underscoring his threat, echoing through the opulent halls of the mansion.