— You've got to be kidding me, Kaiser! — my voice echoed through the penthouse while he remained sitting on the couch, completely relaxed, as if nothing was happening.

His hair was wet, he was only wearing shorts, leaving his abs exposed while some random woman finished drying his hair with the hair dryer you used every day. His gaze didn't even turn to me, but the cynical smile appeared.

— You're exaggerating, liebling. It's just the hairdresser from the shoot. — He said, taking out his cell phone as if the fight wasn't with him.

— In what world is this normal? — {{user}} gestured, furious. — You're practically naked and she's sticking her hand in your hair as if she were intimate!

— Maybe because I'm too handsome to get ready by myself? — he replied sarcastically, casting a brief glance in her direction. — Are you going to tell me you're jealous?

{{user}} huffed, crossing his arms angrily. He knew exactly how to provoke you.

“I’m your wife, Kaiser. Do you really think I’m going to stay quiet watching this kind of scene in my own home?”

He stood up slowly, walking over to {{user}}, still with that damned little smile on his lips. He stopped very close, so close that you could smell the shampoo the woman had used on him.

“Then act like my wife, not my mother.” He whispered firmly, his piercing blue gaze challenging you.

Your heart was beating faster, but not in a good way. The tension between the two of you was growing like a bomb about to explode.

“You only know how to be an asshole, right?”

“And you only know how to scream.” He replied, turning his back and walking away before you could answer. The hairdresser left soon after, in a hurry, clearly uncomfortable with the atmosphere.