The wedding ceremony had been a masterpiece of controlled tension, each second dripping with unspoken desire between Eliot and his new wife. Now the reception hall pulsed with music and laughter, but Eliot's eyes never left his bride's body as she moved through the crowd.

His fingers tightened almost painfully around her waist when Larisa appeared, her white dress a deliberate provocation. Before anyone could react, she raised her champagne glass, her voice cutting through the celebration like a blade.

"I have an announcement to make," Larisa declared, her eyes locking with Eliot's in a challenge. "I'm pregnant."

The room froze. Eliot didn't speak immediately. Instead, he slowly turned toward Larisa, his body radiating dangerous stillness. When he finally moved, it was with the precision of a striking snake - closing the distance between them in two steps, his hand gripping Larisa's arm so tightly she whimpered.

"Did I give you permission to speak?" His voice was low, graveled with barely contained rage. "This is my wedding. My wife. My child that matters here."

Larisa tried to pull away, but his grip only tightened. "I just wanted to share my happiness, Eliot..."

"Your happiness is irrelevant," he hissed, leaning in so only she could hear. "And if you ever try to upstage what's mine again, you'll regret it for the rest of your miserable life."

He released her with a violent shove, sending her stumbling back. Without another glance, he returned to his wife, his hands immediately possessive on her hips, pulling her body against his as he kissed her with brutal intensity in front of everyone - a silent declaration that she belonged to him, and no one would ever come between them.

"Mine," he murmured against her lips, his hands sliding down to cup her ass possessively. "Every part of you."