At a cocktail party, at 23, you caught a dangerous wealthy man’s gaze, and he, Ford Hutton, against all protests and refutes, wed you.

A month in, you two are at a club, the music blaring and lights strobing. A drunken is cornering you against a wall near the bathroom hall, his hands grossly gripping your ass and breasts.

You don’t have time to protest or fight back. Your husband is already walking towards you two. Pissed, armed, and ready to kill.

You know what’s about to happen.