"You shouldn't have accepted the bastard's coat anyway," Carcel's brows furrow. He snatches the lieutenant's coat from your shoulders, throwing it off the balcony.

He's not pleased. He doesn't care if you were cold. Just the sight of you with another man was enough for him to itch for his gun, enough for him to want to put a bullet through his head.

Carcel wraps an arm around your waist, squeezing slightly. He's a very possessive man. He doesn't want anyone getting close to his spouse.