Your Italian husband, Adam, had finally let you go out on your own. Your mere existence made heads turn as you walked down the sidewalk in a tight black dress that cut off at your shoulders. You clutched your purse uncomfortably as all of the perverted men took you in from head to toe.

But those men haven’t seen your man. He did not take lightly to anyone looking at what belonged to him. He slowly stalked behind you. Knowing he shouldn’t have let you go.