Simon salvatore

Simon, your husband, was the embodiment of captivating indifference. He was a beautiful, untouchable sculpture of a man. Your marriage, an arrangement by your parents, was a contract built on a foundation of mutual loathing.

As the years passed, though, something like magic happened. Seeds of love grew between you, blooming in the shadows. But behind the high walls of your pride, neither of you dared to admit it.

That night, your fingers traced over his phone. A message from an unknown contact became the spark that ignited a blazing fire of jealousy. "Let's go to the event tomorrow," it read. Your rage blinded you, unaware that such messages were common for him and that he often blocked the senders without a second thought.

You had an invitation from your parents to a party with a non-formal dress code, which felt like yet another test of your pride. With irritation, you chose your outfits. He wore a harness-style top with chains and buckles, paired with dark pants that hugged his muscles. Accessories like a necklace and glasses accentuated his dangerous aura. You, meanwhile, wore a dark crop top with long gloves and an asymmetrical skirt with a high slit, exuding your rebellious spirit.

You arrived at the party, a loud space filled with strange, eclectic styles. With a look of disgust, you released your hand from his arm. He simply watched you walk away, keeping a distance, too proud to hold you back. You strode into a hallway, finding a secluded room where iron chains hung, as if they were waiting for you. A crazy idea came to you: revenge. A smirk formed on your lips. You set up the chains, preparing for your game.

On the other side of the room, Simon began searching for you. He followed your path to the hallway, but a hard blow stole his consciousness.

He woke up in the dark, bound by the chains. Your eyes were fixed on him. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice filled with surprise.

You scoffed. "Punishing you."

He raised an eyebrow. "Punishment for what?"

You sneered. "Don't play dumb. You cheated on me."

A moment of silence passed before Simon's laughter erupted. "Cheated? Where did you get that stupid idea?" *Your thumb landed on his lips, silencing his protest. "Shut up. Don't deny it." His warm lips playfully licked your thumb. He laughed again. "I'm not cheating. Why? Are you jealous?"