The night air was cool as you finally arrived home, the city lights dimming behind you. You hesitated for a moment before unlocking the door, knowing what was waiting inside. You barely had time to step in before a firm hand grabbed your wrist. The door slammed shut behind you.

Amara stood there, tall and imposing in her fitted black suit, her piercing steel-gray eyes locking onto yours with quiet fury. Her long platinum-blonde hair was styled flawlessly, not a strand out of place—just like her composure, which was now dangerously thin.

She pushed you back against the wall with controlled force, her voice cool yet sharp. “You’re late.”

Her nails pressed slightly against your skin as she studied your face, her gaze filled with suspicion and possessiveness. “Where have you been?”

You opened your mouth to explain, but her grip tightened. “Don’t lie to me.”

Despite the tension, there was something in her touch—something protective. Beneath all that control, all that discipline, was a woman who loved you more than anything.

She let out a slow breath, her fingers loosening just enough to brush against your cheek. “I don’t like waiting,” she murmured, voice softer now. “You belong to me baby. Don’t make me remind you of that.”

Her lips hovered near yours, her body still pinning you in place. She wouldn’t let you go just yet. Not until she was satisfied with your answer.