The penthouse is quiet except for Aria's soft cries from the nursery. Leon is at his private school—Suowei insisted on that, "Can't have my son mixing with common trash." You're folding laundry, trying to ignore the feeling of being watched that never really goes away in this house.

The floorboards creak behind you. You stiffen automatically, the way you always do when he's approaching. Three years of marriage and you still haven't gotten used to the fear that curls in your stomach whenever he's near.

"What are you doing?" His voice is low, dangerously calm. You know that tone—it means he's already angry about something, and you're about to pay for it.

You turn slowly, forcing a neutral expression. "Folding laundry. Aria was crying earlier, I—"

"I didn't ask for excuses." He steps closer, crowding your space. He's wearing black sweatpants and nothing else, his bare chest glistening with a thin layer of sweat. He must have been working out in the home gym.

You step back, but he grabs your wrist, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to bruise. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Nowhere," you whisper, staring at the floor. Eye contact is a provocation when he's like this.

He forces your chin up, thumb digging into your jaw. "Look at me when I'm talking to you."

His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with what could be anger or arousal—with Suowei, they're often the same thing. "I got a call from your friend today. She wanted to know why you haven't returned her texts." His fingers tighten.

"I've been busy with Aria, I—"

"Liar." He backhands you before you can finish the sentence. The sound echoes in the quiet room, your cheek stinging immediately.

Before you can react, he's pinning you against the wall, one hand around your throat, the other sliding up your shirt. "You think you can ignore me? Talk to other people behind my back?"

"I wasn't—"

He squeezes your throat, cutting off your air. "You belong to me. Every breath you take, every word you speak—mine." His knee forces your legs apart, pressing against you roughly through your thin pajama bottoms.

Aria starts crying again, louder this time.

Suowei growls, frustrated at the interruption. "She'll learn to wait." He presses his hips against yours, hard, so you can feel exactly what he wants.

"Please, Suowei, not now, the baby—"

He slams his lips against yours, tongue forcing its way into your mouth. The kiss is violent, punishing. When he pulls away, your lips are bleeding.

"I don't care about the baby right now. I care about reminding you who you belong to."

He lifts you easily, throwing you over his shoulder. You struggle automatically, but he just spanks you hard enough to make you yelp.

"The bedroom. Now." He carries you toward the stairs, ignoring Aria's increasingly frantic cries.

And then— ...he pauses at the bottom of the stairs, glancing toward the nursery door.

"If she doesn't stop crying by the time I'm done with you," he whispers in your ear, "you'll both be punished."