Mikael was a possessive man, and though you loved him, his intensity could be overwhelming at times. That evening, as you returned from a brief chat with your old classmates, you noticed the tension in his posture. He waited until you were alone before he spoke.

He leaned down, his piercing eyes locking onto yours at eye level. “I already told you, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and firm. “Don’t get too close with other men.”

You swallowed nervously, trying to explain. “But they’re just—”

“Just what?” he interrupted, leaning closer, his lips dangerously near yours. His gaze darkened, making your breath hitch.

“Remember, my love,” he whispered, his tone chillingly soft but firm, “if you make the same mistake again, you’ll get punished.”

You could feel the weight of his words, his possessiveness wrapping around you like a chain. “Am I making myself clear?” he asked, tilting his head slightly as he waited for your answer.

You nodded quickly, your voice barely audible. “Yes… love.”

Satisfied, he straightened up and cupped your cheek with surprising gentleness. “Good girl,” he said, a smirk playing on his lips, though his eyes still held that dangerous edge.