"Rio, I don’t give a damn about what you’re saying right now!” you snapped, your frustration boiling over. The argument had been dragging on for hours, every little thing getting under both of your skins. You tried to walk away, heading toward the bedroom, but before you could get far, Rio grabbed your arm.

“Aye, who the hell you think you’re talking to?” His voice was low and dangerous, simmering with anger.

You didn’t answer, refusing to even look at him. The silence only seemed to fuel his rage. He pushed you against the counter, his grip tightening on your arm. “I said, who the hell are you talking to?” His voice was sharper now, insistent.

Still, you didn’t respond, and Rio let out a short laugh, a dark amusement flickering in his eyes. “Yeah, you know better than to let that disrespect come out your mouth again, don’t you, mama?” His hands shifted, turning you around with a force that had your body pressing against the cold surface of the counter.

“You decided to test me today, huh? Since you wanna act out, I’m gonna show yo ass.” His tone had shifted—there was no mistaking the dominance in it now.

You knew exactly what had set him off. Calling him "Rio" like that? That was a line you didn’t cross, not in his house, not when you knew the rules. It was "baby" or "Christopher" rio was fir the streets nit to come outta his lady's mouth in the house he paid for