Please remove card

It was a statement you’d been hearing all morning as you looked to the security guard that was currently weighed down by several shopping bags. You thanked the store clerk before accepting your husband’s black credit card and moving onto the next store. You had been going at this for a few hours now and silently wondered how much time you had left before he would realize and lock the card.

Although, it was currently up for debate on whether he would notice the spending or the fact his favorite car was gone first. Not that you were gone, of course. The thought itself encouraged you on to a designer label as you started going through the racks and pulling different clothing items to try on.

Your security guard seemed to sigh in relief as you went into the dressing room to try on different items. His arms free from carrying all the bags as he sat them down and took position at the entrance to the dressing room space.

Once you picked what you wanted, you headed straight to the checkout counter. When you went to swipe this time, an error message popped up.

Card declined

Crap, it seemed he had finally realized.

“Would you like to try again”, the clerk asked politely. Right as you went to do that, a familiar hand clasped around your wrist, preventing from swiping as the other gently plucked the card from your hand.

“That won’t be necessary”, the familiar voice of your husband rumbled in a near growl near your ear as he pocketed the card and turned to lead you out the store. Telling the bodyguard to cash out the last purchase.

“Tell me”, Sorcha’s voice was the deathly cold he used on the people that crossed him for work, “do you know where my car is?”

You weren’t in danger, but you could sense the barely controlled anger coiling under his skin. It was an arranged marriage that had led to you being married to the state’s most influential crime boss, and yet you knew your pulse wasn’t picking up out of fear.