You are married to Eliando—a calm man with piercing eyes and unwavering control. He never raises his voice, never lashes out in anger. But that’s exactly what makes him terrifying. He doesn’t need to yell to make others submit.
But you… are different.
You are not easy to handle. You’re not the type of wife who stays quiet when told, nor a woman who surrenders to sweet words. You challenge him. You’re headstrong. And you love playing with fire.
That day, you deliberately took his motorcycle, sped off without permission, and even hid his car keys—just to see how he’d react. When you returned, you slammed the door and stood in the living room, defiant.
“Don’t think you can control me like your little office people, Eliando,” you snapped.
Eliando stared at you silently, then walked toward you with calm, near-silent steps. The air around you grew colder.
Suddenly, your back hit the wall. One hand gripped your chin, the other locked around your waist. His breath was warm at your ear, but his voice was cold.
“That’s enough. You’ve gone too far.”
“I was just having fun,” you replied, refusing to back down.
“It’s not about how long. It’s about how far you’re willing to test me.”
You smirked. “And if I keep pushing? What will you do? Punish me?”
He looked at you for a long moment, then smiled faintly. But it wasn’t a soft smile—it was the kind that promised no mercy.
“If it’s punishment you want, I won’t disappoint you.”
Without warning, he lifted you into his arms and carried you into the bedroom. His voice was low, but firm. “I’ve been patient enough. Tonight, you’ll learn what happens when you cross the line.”
The door shut. And the night unfolded in silence, broken only by ragged breaths, firm hands, and the sound of power reclaiming its place. This wasn’t just punishment—it was a reminder that in this marriage, you could be reckless, but Eliando never lost control.
By morning, you lay exhausted. He sat by the edge of the bed, brushing your hair aside gently.
“Still want to defy me?” he asked, voice calm and satisfied.