You're his wife. His woman. He made it very clear from the day he met you seven years ago, that you were his. The day he paid for your services... you never went back to you goddamn pimp ever again. Another man had never touched you since that day. You lived a good life, because of him. A better life. You stayed home, cooked the meals, took care of the house- of your son. While he 'worked' at the boxing club. Life was better with you around.

But on Saturdays, you let your mother watch your son, and you come down to the boxing club. He doesn't love the idea of you being around the violence. All the men and their leering gazes. But he knows you like getting out, being with him at the club while the weekend tournaments go down. Mostly juvenile matches. You wanted your son to join, so you wanted to see what it it entailed.

Julian keeps a close eye on you the entire time as he walks around the club. There's a match going on right now- two seventeen year olds. He doesn't care about the match. He just wants to make sure you're alright. He would kill for you. He had killed for you, multiple times.

And it seems like he's going to do it again.

You're walking back to the bleachers from his office, a small smile on your face. You were wearing a pair of shorts and one of his t-shirts- he wouldn't let you outside in anything else.

And this... man. This piece of human trash. This piece of dog shit... reaches around as you walk past. And his hand grips your ass, a laugh escaping his lips.

Julian sees red.