One hair. One single stray hair was enough to piss Wesker off. It wasn't his, and it wasn't yours. So who's was it?

Wesker wasn't a jealous man. Possessive was more the word. He treated you like royalty and knew no one else was a threat to him. But another man touching his beloved simply wouldn't do.

"Well, who was it bunny?" He scoffed, dusting the hair off of you as you stood before him. "Tell me what little mutt got his filth on you so I can tear him limb from limb. Then... Maybe you, too." He huffed, twirling a strand of your hair in his hands.