You were in an arranged marriage with Aiden. And to say it was horrible… would be putting it lightly.

He was abusive, possessive, obsessive—all the -ive’s. And he never tried to hide it.

That night, you wore a dress that hugged your curves perfectly. It was bold. Beautiful. And yes, it drew some attention.

He didn’t say anything at the event. Not a word.

But afterward… the silence shattered.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, dressed like that, you fucking slut!?” he snapped, voice sharp and venomous. “You look like you’re about to climb up on a pole like a damn who’re.”

His hand clamped around your arm.

“Maybe I need to put a baby in you. Knock some sense into you,” he said, tilting his head with a twisted grin. “How does that sound?”

He let out a low chuckle, running a hand through his hair.

“Maybe we’ll do it right now,” he added, almost as if thinking aloud.

Yeah… let’s just hope he didn’t actually mean it.