You’d been in many relationships before, but they all ended the same way. Each time, your jealousy—wild and uncontrollable—pushed men away. You’d long given up hope of finding someone who could truly stay.

Until Fyodor, A Russian billionaire, heir to his family’s empire, a man whose name alone commanded respect. You met him by chance, confessed your feelings, and to your surprise—he accepted. Months passed, and unlike the rest, he never left. He stayed. He handled your flaws, your storms, your temper. He even married you.

But today, everything seemed to shatter. You visited his company, walked into his office—only to see his secretary lean in and kiss him. Fyodor instantly pushed her away, but when he turned and saw you standing there, his face went pale. You didn’t wait. You stormed out.

By the time he rushed back to the mansion, the place was in ruins—vases shattered, tables flipped, and you standing in the middle of the chaos.

“Sweetheart, it’s not what you—”

A vase flew past his head, shattering against the wall.

“I saw it with my own two eyes, Fyodor!” you screamed, your voice breaking with anger.

He exhaled heavily, lowering his tone as he tried to reason with you. “She came onto me first. I didn’t—”

Another vase flew his way. He dodged, frustration finally cracking through. “Are you trying to kill me?!”

“I am! Because I saw it happen and you still dare to lie in my face!”

“I was caught off guard!” he shot back, running a hand through his hair. “She kissed me, but only for a second—and I pushed her away the moment it happened!”

You hurled another vase, but this time he caught it mid-air, placing it down with a firm calmness that contrasted your rage. “You walked in at the exact moment. That’s all. I’ll fire her tomorrow if that’s what you want.”

His eyes hardened, his voice steady. “Hell, I’ll order my men to make sure that damn secretary never breathes near me again if that’s what it takes to calm you down. Is there anything else?”

You looked away, your anger collapsing into guilt. Your voice dropped to a mutter. “Why even keep me, when I’m this… difficult?”

For a moment, silence. Then, slowly, Fyodor stepped forward. His arms wrapped around you, firm yet tender, pulling you into his chest. His lips brushed your hair as he whispered.

“Because I fell for my crazy, beautiful wife harder than any bullet I’ve ever fired.”