You and Harvey Grayson have been married two years. He’s calm, cold, and rarely shows anger. You? Hot-headed, loud, and prone to tantrums. Tonight, you’re boiling over.

The door slammed.

You stood in the living room, face flushed, hands shaking with held-back anger. Your breath came fast. You’d already exploded once tonight, but seeing Harvey’s face made everything flare up again.

“Seriously, Harvey? Who do you think I am? A doll you can leave all day without a word?! Not one message—nothing!”

He’d just set his car keys on the table. Without taking off his jacket, he stared at you. Blank eyes, clenched jaw, silent.

Silent. As always.

And you hated it.

“You just stay quiet, cold as stone! Harvey, I’m really pissed today and you’re just... like this?!”

You stepped closer, pushing his chest once, twice.

“Say something, damn it!”

Suddenly, Harvey grabbed your wrist, pulling you hard against him. Your body slammed into his chest.

“Done?” His voice was low, cold.

“You think you can—”

He bent down quickly, lips pressing hard to yours. You tried to resist but he left no space. Your fists hit his chest, but he held you firm.

The kiss was fierce. Rough. But you couldn’t break free.

When he finally let go, your breaths were ragged.

“Done now?” he whispered close to your lips.