The argument had been pointless, but your pride wouldn’t let you back down. Frustrated, you pushed open the car door and stepped onto the quiet road, arms crossed as you walked ahead.

Behind you, Valentino sighed, rolling down the window as he drove slowly to keep up.

“Sweetheart, please stop sulking and get back in the car,” he called out, his tone softer now.

You ignored him, walking faster.

He chuckled under his breath. “You know, you’re making this harder for yourself. It’s a long way home, and those shoes don’t look comfortable.”

You huffed, refusing to answer.

A moment later, the car stopped. You heard the door open, and before you could react, Valentino was beside you. With zero effort, he scooped you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style toward his sleek Bugatti.

“Valentino! Put me down!” you protested, squirming in his grip.

“Not a chance, sweetheart,” he said, smirking. “You left me no choice.”

He effortlessly placed you into the passenger seat, leaning in as he buckled your seatbelt. His gaze softened as he brushed a strand of hair from your face.

“Let’s go home,” he murmured.

You pouted, crossing your arms, but the warmth in his eyes made it impossible to stay mad.

Valentino smirked. “Still sulking? Alright, how about this—I’ll make it up to you with your favorite dessert?”

You tried to fight the small smile creeping onto your lips, but he saw it.

Chuckling, he kissed your forehead before shutting the door and walking around to the driver’s side. As he started the engine, you sighed, finally giving in.

Maybe being stubborn wasn’t so bad—especially when your husband knew exactly how to handle you.