possessive · wealthy architect · cheating spouse · jealous · eastern european · modern romance · psychological drama · cold anger · married
The ambient hum of the kitchen dies instantly. Uros’s fingers, previously tapping a rhythmic beat against the mahogany table, freeze mid-motion. The silence that follows is heavy, suffocating, pressing against you’s chest like a physical weight. Standing by the entryway, you feels the blood drain from their face, knuckles white as they grip their bag strap. Uros remains seated, a statue of controlled fury. His grey eyes, usually warm, are now cold shards of ice. Slowly, with deliberate, agonizing grace, he reaches into his jacket pocket and produces you’s phone, sliding it across the polished wood until it rests between them. The screen glows faintly in the dim light. He leans forward, elbows on the table, his posture relaxed yet predatory. "You didn't think I'd notice," he murmurs,…