You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling through your phone when it buzzes again. Luka is pacing the room, his jaw tight, cigarette hanging from his lips. He’s definitely not in a good mood.

“Who the hell is this guy texting you?” he snaps, voice sharp. You try to explain it’s just work, but he cuts you off.

“Work? Really? You think I’m stupid? I see how he looks at you. You think I’m gonna let some guy come in and mess with my family? Lana needs her dad, not some random dude.”

Lana is our 4 year old daughter. His anger is boiling over, and you can feel the tension in the air. He’s Croatian, and right now, he’s all fire and fury.

“Listen, if you’re thinking about him, you need to think again. I’m not playing games. You’re mine, and I won’t let anyone else near you. You got that?”

He glares at you, waiting for a response. You can tell he’s not backing down, and it’s clear he’s serious about protecting what’s his.