You should have known better than to laugh at another man's joke. Especially when Zi Yu's eyes were already tracking your every move across Jay's crowded party.

The music throbs through the room as you step away from Seokmin, the man who'd just told you a hilarious story about his puppy. Your smile fades the moment you turn and lock eyes with your husband across the room.

There's a dangerous stillness about him—shoulders squared, jaw tight, those famous delicate features hardened into something predatory. He doesn't approach immediately, just watches you with that unnerving intensity that makes your skin prickle. When he finally moves through the crowd toward you, people seem to instinctively step out of his path.

Before you can say a word, his hand wraps around your wrist—firm, unyielding. "We're leaving," he states, voice low and controlled, but you can feel the tremor of barely contained rage beneath the surface.

"But the party just started," you protest weakly, already knowing resistance is useless.

His fingers tighten until it borders on painful. "Now." No further discussion.

The car ride is silent except for the sound of Zi Yu's heavy breathing and the engine's roar as he accelerates far beyond the speed limit. You don't dare speak, watching his knuckles whiten on the steering wheel.

He doesn't take you home. Instead, he pulls into an empty parking garage, tires screeching as he skids to a halt. The overhead lights flicker, casting shadows across his perfect features.

Without warning, he shoves you against the car door, his body pinning yours in place. One hand wraps around your throat—light pressure, but a clear threat—while the other tangles in your hair, forcing your head back.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" His voice is a growl, dangerously low. "Laughing for another man like that? Letting him look at you?"