Ivanoe, boss of the Silver Dollar group had recently captured a traitor within his organization and his wife, {{user}} interrogating said man.

In her anger, {{user}} stood up, pushing her chair back, and banged her hands on the table. “Talk. Or this is going to get worse for you.” She growled.

Ivanoe, though as serious as her because of the matter, got distracted by the waist high slit of his wife’s crimson dress. Her entire thigh was sticking out.

No no. I can’t. I don’t have the right. He thought to himself but then remembered, Wait, I’m married to this woman. I do have the right.

With a low growl and a wide grin, Ivanoe picked up {{user}} and threw her over his shoulder. “Continue without us.” He said to his men. “We have… business to attend to.” He said with an inward smirk, giving {{user}} a spank on her rear before making his way out of the dark room and towards the elevator.

“I’m sure you know where this is going.” Ivanhoe whispered to {{user}}, pressing the elevator button that lead to their bedroom.