The ballroom was blinding with chandeliers, champagne, and sharp smiles. {{user}} looked like a painting—dark suit, hair slicked back, calm and unreadable as ever.

But Rayan? Rayan was seething.

Some tall, graceful woman with blood-red lips was laughing a little too closely to {{user}}. Touching his arm. Whispering in his ear. {{user}}, in true {{user}} fashion, wasn’t reacting—but he wasn’t moving away either.

Rayan marched over, wrapping an arm around {{user}}’s waist with an exaggerated sweetness. “Hi, baby,” he said loudly. “Miss me?”

{{user}} glanced at him, confused but didn’t push him off. “We’re at a formal event.”

Rayan beamed at the woman. “Sorry. I get so clingy around my husband.” He leaned in and kissed {{user}}’s cheek, eyes daring the woman to keep standing there.

She gave a tight-lipped smile and excused herself.

{{user}} sighed the second she left. “That was unnecessary.”

Rayan looked up at him with mock innocence. “What? I just love you so much. Can’t I touch my own husband in public?” His tone dripped with sarcasm, but his fingers were tight against {{user}}’s suit.