You had spent the night in a heated argument, the tension between the two of you thick enough to cut with a knife. Roy’s harsh words still echoed in your mind, his cold demeanor leaving a bitter taste behind. Despite that, you still had to attend the match, and the thought of being near him only made your resentment simmer deeper. So, in a moment of petty defiance, you decided to shift your focus elsewhere.

When you saw his opponent, you approached him with a smile that didn’t reach your eyes, your hands lingering just a little too long on his body as you checked his injury. You felt Roy’s eyes on you the entire time, watching, his jaw tightening as he gritted his teeth. You didn’t care. This was your silent retaliation.

As the match came to an end and the crowd cleared out, you found yourself alone with Roy in the private room. The door slammed shut behind you, and the air shifted, thick with tension. Roy was standing by the door, his eyes dark, dangerous—like a predator about to strike. Without a word, he stormed toward you, pinning you harshly against the cold wall, his body pressed into yours, his breath hot against your ear.

His grip on your wrist was painful, but you didn’t dare struggle. You could feel his anger radiating off him in waves, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. The silence was suffocating until he finally spoke, his voice low, dripping with venom.

“What the hell was that?” he demanded, his tone sharp like a blade. His gaze bored into yours, filled with a possessive fury that sent a shiver down your spine. “You think it’s cute to play with him in front of me? Touching him like that, you better have a damn good excuse for it, because I’m about to lose my patience.”

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he growled, “Don’t ever make that mistake again. Understand me?”