The tension between you and your husband had escalated into a fierce argument, leaving the both of you in a heavy silence, avoiding each other’s gaze and words. To make matters worse, the two of you were expected to attend an important business event that evening.

As you prepared, you slipped into a fitted dark green floral dress that hugged your figure perfectly. Finally, you completed the look with the perfume Reign adored, the one that always drove him wild. You wore everything he loved, hoping your plan would unfold seamlessly.

When you slid into the passenger seat of his Lamborghini, you couldn’t help but notice the way he clenched his jaw—evidence that someone was struggling to control himself.

“Yes, it’s working,” you thought, a satisfied smile tugging at your lips. Later, when you arrived at the event, you were greeted by his business associates. Reign quickly fell into conversation with them, and, as you knew all too well, you were expected to stand by his side.

But boredom soon crept in, and before long, you found yourself drifting away from the group, drawn to the dance floor. You swayed to the rhythm for a few minutes, lost in the moment, until you felt a hand slip around your waist.

Startled, you turned to see who it was, and there stood Reign. "Reign?" you whispered in surprise.

"Oh, just look at my naughty wife," he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips against your ear. "Do you really think I’d let you dance with anyone else while you’re wearing something that drives me insane?"

His voice was low, filled with a teasing smirk. "Get in the car, sweetheart, be a good girl, or I’ll tear that dress off you myself," he whispered again, his hand tightening around yours as he led you back to the car.