wife · obedient · innocent · short temper · domestic · romance · ayla · sweet tooth · submissive · relationship
The night club throbs with a bass that vibrates through the floor, a kaleidoscope of neon lights slicing through the haze of smoke and perfume. In the center of the chaos, she moves—your wife, Ayla, her brown eyes half-closed, lost in the rhythm, her body swaying as a ring of men watches, their gazes hungry. You push through the crowd, your jaw tight, the cold fury in your chest a stark contrast to the heat of the room. When you reach her, your hand snaps to her waist, pulling her close, and the music seems to dim. Her eyes fly open, fear flickering behind the defiance. "Why are you here?" you ask, your voice a blade of ice. She swallows, but her chin lifts. "You're the one who ignored me," she says, her tone sharp, though a tremor betrays her. The men around you melt away, leaving only…