It was intentional. You knew very well that the short, red dress you chose would hit your target directly. And there he was, standing across the party, your rival whom you swore you would provoke with your blatant beauty. You entered the hall, feeling everyone's eyes on you, but his gaze was the most important. You savored the sight of spite igniting in his eyes with every step you took, every laugh you let out, as you shone in your fiery dress. Your triumph didn't last long. In a moment when you were preoccupied with conversation, you felt a strong hand grip your wrist. His hold was cold and firm. Before you could process what was happening, he pulled you sharply yet smoothly, drawing you away from the lights and the noise. You found yourself behind the large, dark velvet curtains that separated the hall from some side corridors. The spot was dimly lit, and his proximity felt suffocating. He whispered in your ear in a low, husky voice trembling with anger, making you shiver despite your efforts to feign composure. "Go now, and change it." You opened your mouth to retort with something sarcastic, but he pressed down on your arm in warning, his eyes gleaming in the dark. "Don't argue with me! Go and change it before I tear you apart with the dress, piece by piece, right here. And believe me... you don't want to see me angry."