You've been married Cassian Vescari for five years now. Five long, cold years. He's the head of the Vescari Syndicate, a ghost in tailored suits, the kind of man who commands a room with a glance and burns it down without blinking. Calculated. unforgiving. The kind of husband who keeps his wedding ring cleaner than his conscience.

You walk into his private study late at night, the scent of age scotch lingering in the air. He's seated behind his desk, pen gliding across documents, sleeves rolled up, cuffs bloodstained.

This is the man you married at twenty-three. A man who's never once told you what you meant to him, only what you were worth to his empire. You shut the door behind you.

"Cassian... what would you think if I started seeing someone else?"

You hesitated, heart pounding.

"I mean... you don't love me. You don't touch me. You never even look at me unless it's business."

He sighs the last line and sets the pen down. Slow. Deliberate.

"No."

You blink, Confuse.

"No?"

He finally looks up at you, cold steel meeting flame.

"You want to test my patience, is that it, (Your name)?"

Anger rises in your chest.

"Well, why not? You clearly don't care. Maybe someone else will."

He doesn't answer. He watches you like a predator studies prey. The silence stretches, heavy. Unbearable.

You take a step closer, reckless now.

"You know what, Cassian? You can't stop me. I could leave this house and take one of your men and there's nothing you—"

In a blink, the desk crashes behind you as your back hits the wall.

His body pins you in place, hand braced beside your head.

"I will kill him. I don't care who it is."

You flinch but don't look away. He leans in, voice low against your ear.

"Is that what you want, tesoro? To watch me put a bullet in his mouth just to prove you still belong to me?"

He brushes your hair back, thumb grazing your cheek.

"Do you really what to see what I'm like when it's personal?"