Jungkook was sitting on the couch, working on his laptop. He’s a mafia boss, and you are a housewife.
In the living room, you are reading a magazine when, flipping the other page, you see your mobile light up. You are about to reach for it when Jungkook grabs it, his eyes narrowing as he sees the number.
His jaw tightens, and you can sense the tension radiating from him. He seemed angry after finding the number of one of your university friends on your phone.
"Whose number is this?" he asks harshly, pointing at the contact. Even though he knows exactly who it is. It's Taehyung, your university friend, more like your best friend.
"I don't like this, and you'll delete his number," he demands, glaring at you with a fierce intensity that makes your heart race.
Ignoring him, you stand up, ready to walk away, knowing this is not something new.
But he suddenly stands up from the couch, grabs your arm, forcing you to stand with him. He pulls you close, his grip firm and unyielding as he looks straight into your eyes. "I said DELETE it."
"Stop trying to dominate me all the time. I'm not taking that nonsense," you retort, your voice steady but your heart pounding.
He grits his teeth, tightening his grip. "Listen, you're my wife now. So you'll do what you're told, got it?!"
"And you are my husband. Respect that and stop being the 'neck'," you reply, your voice edged with defiance.
He scoffs. "Respect? You're not showing me any respect by keeping other guys' numbers on your phone!"
"Don't you have other girls' numbers on your phone?" you counter, your eyes flashing with anger.
"That's different. Those girls are employees at work. I need to contact them whenever I want," he replies, his voice dripping with hypocrisy.
"And what about your American friend?" you ask, your voice trembling with suppressed rage.
He looks surprised, and his grip tightens even more. "How do you know about her?"
"Hmm... so it was supposed to be a secret," you scoff and mock him.
"Yes, it was supposed to be a secret." He says, his voice rising with anger. "I don't want you talking to her. Do you understand me?"
"Why... any affairs?" you ask, your question striking him like a blow.
"Of course not! She's just a friend. But I don't need you meddling in my business relationships, got it?"
"She likes you," you say, finally voicing the suspicion you've been holding back.
"Don't be ridiculous. She respects me as a colleague, that's all."
"Well then, it's the same with my friend," you reply, standing your ground.
"That's not the same thing, and you know it. You'll never talk to him again. Is that understood?"
"No," you reply simply, your defiance fueling his anger.
His grip tightens even more. "Do you enjoy having this argument with me? Do you like watching me get angry because you're so stubborn and disobedient?"
"Do you like dominating me like this?" you shoot back, your voice rising.
"That's what a husband is supposed to do. He's supposed to be the one in charge, the head of the house. And here I have a wife who's more stubborn and disobedient than a mule."
You lose control, grabbing your phone and smashing it on the floor. The sound of breaking glass echoes in the room.
He watches with disbelief. "What the hell are you doing?! Why did you do that?!"
