Part 1: Her Punishment.

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At 1 a.m. on Sunday, a grey Bugatti Chivron glided into a flashy modern garage, a haven for luxury vehicles that reflected the owner's impeccable taste and wealth. The contemporary architecture boasted polished marble floors and soaring ceilings, with expansive glass doors that framed a stunning view and a meticulous detailing area.

Inside the car sat two striking figures: Stephan, a handsome man with electric blue eyes, and his wife, Rose, whose gentle beauty was accentuated by her innocent doe eyes.

Sitting behind the wheel, Stephan radiated a dark energy that mirrored the fury in his gaze. His expression was thunderous, like a storm brewing on the horizon. In contrast, Rose remained calm, her expression serene. She felt no threat from the tempestuous man beside her; his fury never frightened her, and she knew well that speaking could only escalate his anger.

They had just returned from a friend's party, which had descended into chaos when Stephan clashed with another man over  Rose, the woman who had ignited the conflict.

Stephan pressed the button to unlock the door; it opened gracefully, and he stepped out without a glance at Rose. He stormed towards the mansion with his expensive tuxedo suit in place, indifferent to whether she chose to follow.

At that moment, the complexities of their relationship unfolded—passion intertwined with tension, a dance of love and conflict brewing in the night air.

Inside the car, Rose gathered her courage, knowing that Stephan's fury would soon pass like a storm, albeit leaving chaos in its wake. She was ready to confront it, as she always did.

Determined, she picked up her red handbag, opened the door, and stepped out, her elegant cat-heel red shoes clicking against the polished floor. At five feet seven inches, her heels only enhanced her impressive stature.

Dressed in a burgundy Dior dinner dress, she embodied modern elegance with its plunging V-neckline and figure-hugging mermaid silhouette. Her beauty eclipsed the luxury surrounding her as she walked towards the mansion.

She keyed in the house code at the entrance, and the door swung open to reveal a grand foyer with soaring ceilings, intricate tiles, and a large fireplace. The silence felt deafening, an eerie stillness that sent chills down her spine.

Rose ascended the spiral staircase to the upper floor, where their bedroom is located. Each step felt like a climb up Mount Everest. Finally, she reached the top, her heart racing as she approached the door at the end of the hallway.

Pushing the door open, she found a spacious, tastefully decorated room filled with elegance and comfort. In the center stood her husband, a towering figure lost in thought, his knuckles red and bloodied from the earlier altercation. He remained oblivious to her presence, absorbed in the aftermath of his fury.

Rose dropped her purse onto the bed, determination replacing hesitation as she approached Stephan. Navigating around his massive frame, she finally stood before him, her presence drawing his gaze from his battered hands to her stunning face. Yet, a dark swell of emotion surged within him instead of joy at the sight of her beauty. She was his, and the thought of other men desiring her beauty ignited a tumultuous rage inside him. It wasn't her fault, but the monster within struggled to comprehend that.

He longed to lash out, to eliminate the burning fury that had barely been quelled by the retribution he had exacted on the man who had dared to look at his wife.

"Let me see," Rose said gently, breaking the heavy silence. Stephan regarded her coolly, not obeying her request. He wanted her gone but also wanted her closer than she was right now.

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