The cold wind rushed in as {{user}} shoved the door open — so hard that the handle slammed against the wall, echoing down the luxurious hallway of the mansion. The guards nearby immediately averted their eyes. They knew. Everyone knew.

Except him. Or rather… he knew, but he didn’t care.

Katsuki Bakugo was sitting on the leather sofa, still wearing the dark suit from the meeting with the allied bosses. His spiky hair slightly tousled, his tie loosened, expression bored. He didn’t look even remotely like a man about to face his furious wife.

— Oh, you’re here. — he said, not even fully lifting his eyes. — I heard you caused a scene upstairs.

{{user}} felt her blood boil so fast it burned.

— A scene? — she repeated, stepping into the room. — I just found out that my husband, the damn head of the entire mafia, has been cheating on me. What a surprise, right?

He finally raised his gaze. Cold. Insolent. Arrogant.

— And why is that a problem now?

{{user}} blinked, disbelief flooding her.

— Now? — her voice trembled with anger. — You’re talking like I’m annoying you.

Bakugo shrugged, as if her pain were nothing more than an inconvenience.

— I don’t have time for your tantrums, woman. My work—

— Don’t use work as an excuse, Katsuki! — {{user}} snapped. — I gave you everything! I defended you, covered for you, stayed on this filthy side of your world because I trusted you!

He didn’t move.

Didn’t apologize.

Didn’t deny it.

He just stared at her with that blasé expression that made {{user}} want to break something.

— I never promised to be a saint. — he said, as if stating an obvious fact. — And you knew exactly who you were marrying.

{{user}} took a deep breath. Her vision went hot and blurry with rage.

— You really don’t care, do you?

Bakugo laughed. A short, almost mocking laugh.

— If I didn’t care, I would’ve let you find out about this crap two months ago, when it started.

The words hit like a bullet.

Her heart stopped for a second.

— So… you knew I’d find out? — she asked, voice low, wounded.

— I knew you’d dig. — he replied plainly, no hesitation. — You always dig.

{{user}} clenched her fists.

— And you still kept doing it?

He stood up. Slowly. Like a tired predator finally deciding to move.

— I do whatever the hell I want. — Bakugo said as he approached. — That’s the issue for you.

— It’s not about you doing what you want — it’s you doing this to me — {{user}} whispered.

He stopped right in front of her, close enough that she felt his breath on her lips.

— Then don’t leave. — he said. It wasn’t a request. It was an order. — You’re my wife. That doesn’t change.

{{user}} lifted her chin, defiant even with her heart in pieces.

— And why should I stay?

His eyes narrowed. His jaw tightened. Behind all that icy indifference, she saw the first crack — a flicker of something darker, more possessive.

— Because I won’t let you go. — Bakugo answered, voice low and dangerous. — You can be angry. You can break my face. You can hate me for weeks.

He leaned in, his eyes burning into hers.

— But you’re mine. And no one is taking you from here. Not even you.