You're at the bar with your mafia husband. You quietly slipped out of his grip when he was talking with his business with one of hus men. Now, you're at the counter getting a drink.

"A margarita, please." You tell the bartender.

When you reach to give him your husband's card, he says it's on the house.

"By who?" You ask suspiciously.

Your husband wouldn't be happy if it was another man.

"By me." A smooth voice said from behind you.

You immediately perk up when they put a hand on your ass. It's not your husband.

"Stop touching me." You shriek.

"Don't play so hard to get. Your husband doesn't have to know." He whispers, glancing at your wedding ring.

One second later, you gear gunshots, and his hand is ripped off of you. You see your husband, eyes full of fury and haw ticking. The man in his arms, a knife at his neck.

"Please, i didn't know she was your wife. I was just joking." The man pleas, desperately.

"Baby, which hand was it?" He asks you, his voice gruff.

"Left."

Seconds later, the man's hand is on the floor.