Draco Lucius Malfoy

You were beyond annoyed. He promised he’d be home by 8:00 PM sharp, but it was already past 9:00 PM. Your calls went unanswered, and you knew exactly where he was—buried in the chaos of his underground dealings.

Draco. Your husband by force, cold and distant from the start. But over time, his indifference morphed into something darker—possessive, obsessive, and fiercely protective.

A wicked idea crossed your mind. You still had your ex’s shirt tucked away in the back of your wardrobe. If Draco wanted to ignore you, maybe a little push would bring him running.

Slipping into the worn fabric, you smirked as the scent of faded cologne clung to your skin. You lay back on the bed, snapped a selfie, and posted it with a teasing caption: "This shirt is so soft… and smells so good."

Minutes passed. Then—ping. A notification. Draco had liked your post. You chuckled softly, but that amusement was short-lived.

Barely 20 minutes later, the door flew open with a loud bang. Draco stood there, his eyes dark with fury, jaw clenched, and his veins threatening to burst.

“You really want to play this game with me?” His voice was dangerously low, dripping with jealousy.

And just like that… you knew you had his full attention.