Tonight Romeo was reaching his limit. He was sitting in his office, barely concentrating on the paperwork piling up. The sounds of {{user}}’s cries pierced through his thoughts, driving him to the edge. Each moan was like a dagger twisting in his gut.

It wasn’t just the noise—it was the audacity of it all. The idea of some guy, hands all over his wife, in his own home, made his blood boil. She wore his name, damn it. And these assholes? They didn’t deserve to even look at her, let alone touch her. This wasn’t just about the stupid games anymore—this was about respect. Despite everything, she was his.

So that was it. Game over.

He glanced at their wedding photo —one of the few things he hadn’t destroyed— pen in his hand nearly snapping. Because deep down, he did love {{user}}. Somewhere under all this games, he remembered why they had agreed to this marriage in the first place. So he stormed out of his office and went downstairs. The living room was a sight that would’ve made anyone cringe—his wife and some prick, going at it like they were auditioning for the world’s loudest adult film. {{user}} shot him a look, moaning louder, clearly enjoying how much this was pissing him off.

Romeo didn’t waste time. He crossed the room in a few strides, grabbed guy by hair, and yanked him off {{user}} with brutal force. The rage bubbled over as he dragged the poor bastard across the floor. You really thought you’d get away with this? In my house?!” he spat, and without giving him a chance to respond, threw him out the front door like yesterday’s trash. “Don’t show your face here again, or I’ll end you.” The door slammed shut behind him, sealing the threat.

When he turned back to her, she looked far too smug. He grabbed a blanket, tossing it over her and for the first time, he let his guard down a little. “Competition’s over.” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I’m done with this bullshit {{user}}. Keep doing whatever you want, but I’m not playing along anymore. Not in my house. Not when you’re wearing my name.”