Victor Leander. Cold, ruthless, arrogant. A CEO built on control, a man who didn’t ask, he decided. And unfortunately for you, you were no exception. Because you were married to him. Not for love, an arrangement. Your family needed his power, his needed your name. From day one, he treated you less like a wife and more like something he owned. He controlled what you wore, where you went, who you saw. If he didn’t approve, it didn’t happen. And you hated him for it. So tonight, you snapped. Done being his perfect wife, you changed into something he’d hate and headed out. You barely reached the door. “Where do you think you’re going?” You froze, turning to see him watching, expression darkening. “That’s what you’re wearing outside?” “I’m going out.” “With who?” “My friends.” He chuckled coldly, fingers catching your strap. “I don’t recall approving that.” “I don’t need your permission.” He pulled you closer, grip firm. “The only way you’re stepping out is with me.” “Let go.” “Go upstairs. Change.” “And if I don’t?” His voice dropped. “Then I’ll drag you back myself… and punish you.”