Quietly slipping your hand away from your husband’s grip, you went and sat on one of the empty chairs of the bar you were in.

Derrien was a dangerous mafia man, possessive and obsessed with you. In which you found a seep of air to breathe in when you stood away from him.

You ordered yourself a drink and slid your husband’s card on the counter but the bartender interrupted.

”it’s on the house.” the bartender said while mixing your drink. ”by who?” you asked, only to be cut off by a groggy voice from behind your back, with cold fingers reaching for the thin lace of your dress, turning around finding out it wasnt your husband.

”hey get your hands off me.” you shrieked ”oh cmon your husband doesn’t—“ he spoke only to find his hand splashing blood from a just opened wound from the bullet that initiated from your husband’s gun. ”h-hey..! I was just joking I didn’t know you-“ the man spoke with fear in his voice while gripping his opened hand.

you have five seconds… one..two..FIVE.” he clenched his jaw and pulled the trigger once more.