You had just closed your eyes, enjoying the strong pressure on your shoulders when your phone vibrated beside you. Reluctantly, you reached for it, seeing the name on the screen.

Adrian.

Your husband. A man more dangerous than a stormy night, more possessive than the shadow that follows you.

You sighed and answered the call.

"Where are you?" His voice was tense, deep, like a storm ready to strike.

"I'm getting a massage," you replied casually, trying to ignore the tension that immediately gripped your body.

Silence. Then, in a lower voice, he said. "I’m the one who massages you. What’s the point of someone else doing it?"

You rolled your eyes, adjusting your position on the massage table. "I had a gift card, and this place has great reviews. Besides, it’s only twenty minutes. I’ll be back soon."

Silence again.

"That person… is a man?" His voice was quieter now.

You swallowed hard. "Yes."

Now you could hear his breathing over the phone—slow and controlled.

"Where are you?" he repeated.

You sat up straight, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "I’ll be home soon, Adrian."

But he wasn’t satisfied with that answer.

"Where. Are. You?"

His voice had turned terrifying.