Save for the distant wail of sirens, now long since faded, the streets were eerily quiet. My legs were on fire as I ran, my chest heaving with each back alley I cut through, over fences I scaled, the calculated moves made to avoid any notice at all. It had gone so smoothly, the mission, until the police arrived. I didn't have time to think about who tipped them off or why. All that mattered was survival.

     My shaking hands fumbled the key into the lock. The familiar creak of the hinges sounded, and I stepped inside-the lock clicking into place behind me firmly. The weight of the night still clung to me as I exhaled long and leaned briefly against the door.

      I flicked the lights on.

And there he was.

    My husband was slumped on the sofa, his face unreadable, though not the fire that darted from his eyes. He sat crossed, leaning backward, as if he had been there for hours. "Where have you been?" he asked. His voice came firm and commanding. The beat of my heart skipped, though I did nothing to reveal my feelings. I shrugged off my jacket, not meeting his gaze. "Work," I said shortly and sharply, but my voice even.

     His smirk was next, that knowing, infuriating smirk that made me want to punch something. "It's 3 AM, Mrs. Dalton," he said, his voice drizzled with mockery. I set my bag on the table and walked towards him, stopping just a few feet away. His eyes never left mine, sharp and probing, as though he was dissecting every move I made.

     "Yes," I said with finality, crossing my arms over my chest. "Overtime. It happens."

His smirk didn't falter, but his tone grew cooler. "Funny how it always seems to happen when you're unreachable for hours. No calls, no texts... nothing."

     I clenched my jaw for calm. "I was busy, all right? I didn't exactly have time to check my phone." He stood then, his height making me feel smaller despite my best efforts to hold my ground. "Busy with what?" he asked, his voice low, dangerous.

     I rolled my eyes, trying to brush off the tension. "With work," I repeated. "What else would I be doing? For a moment, the room fell silent, the weight of his gaze making my skin prickle. Finally, he stepped closer, his expression unreadable. I opened my arms, expecting him to pull me into a hug. Instead, he stood up abruptly, closing the distance between us in two strides. Before I could react, he bent down and scooped me up with ease.

  "Hey!" I complained, wriggling slightly in his hold. He laughed-a warm, teasing sound.

   "No 'Hey.' You're going to bed right now," he replied, firm but ignoring my wriggles as he tucked his arms tighter around me.

    "How nice of you to pick me up," I grumbled, crossing my arms as he carried me toward the bedroom. "But I can walk perfectly fine, you know."

    "Don't care," he replied flatly, though the smirk was audible without him having to say anything. Finally, we reached the bedroom, and he unceremoniously chucked me onto the bed. I bounced a little, glaring upwards at him as he stood over me, his smirk slipping into something more serious.

     He let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair before plopping down on the edge of the bed beside me. He sounded annoyed, but it was a tempered annoyance, softened by something else-concern, perhaps, or frustration.

    "You're really going to keep lying to me?" he asked, his voice low, tinged with disbelief.

     "I'm not lying," I insisted, straightening up. "I'm telling the truth, babe. I was working overtime.

      His eyes narrowed slightly, and I got up, walking to my makeup table to avoid his gaze. The air in the room seemed to grow heavier with every second as I released my hair, letting it fall loosely over my shoulders. Reaching for my comb, I began brushing through my long, straight strands, focusing on the familiar rhythm to steady myself.

      That's when I felt it-his eyes on me, watching intently. "Where is it?" he asked suddenly, his tone sharper than before.

I turned to him, puzzled. "Where's what?" His gaze dropped to my chest, his jaw tightening. "The necklace," he said. "The one I gave you for our anniversary. It's gone."

      My hand instinctively moved to my neck, where the chain should've been resting. For one short moment, my heart fluttered and quickened around a rising tide of panic. I forced myself to remain very still. In dead silence, he rose, his footsteps soundless but the implication clear in the motion behind me. The sudden touch of his hands doing a gentle yet firm grab on my shoulders to turn me toward the mirror stiffened my back. His reflection loomed behind mine, a mixture of disappointment and firm determination on his face.

      Where's the necklace I gave you for our anniversary?" he repeated, his tone unchanged, yet unswerving in its intensity. He dropped his eyes to my bare neck, where the absence of that well-worn chain was all but blinding.

      "Shit!" I cursed under my breath, my stomach flipping. Of all the things to forget, it had to be that. I still remembered the exact moment I had yanked it off and flung it into the void of nowhere, knowing well there was a tracker embedded in the clasp. I hadn't thought twice about it at the time. Now, the consequences stared me down-literally.

      "Wait a minute," I said quickly, forcing a note of panic into my voice as I turned to face him. His grip on my shoulders didn't slacken; his eyes bore into mine.

       "Baby!" I exclaimed, going wide-eyed with the supposed revelation. "I just realized-I must have dropped it somewhere!" He furrowed his brow then, and almost, I'd swear, a glint of doubt surfaced. "Dropped it where?"

      "I don't know! " I said, going up an inch in pitch, "I was so busy today, running about everywhere, I must've forgotten putting it on. I'm really sorry-I'll be looking for it tomorrow, promise! " He said nothing more, his grasp still firm while his eyes searched deep into mine as if for any shade of a lie. His face coming close to mine, with his grip on my shoulders tightened, his gaze felt heavy over me.

His face clouded, turning grave, but there was a flicker of something else-concern, perhaps, but it was buried beneath the layers of frustration.

      "You lost the necklace I gave you?" His voice was low, but the words hit hard. "Where exactly did you lose it, then?" I hesitated, not wanting to admit the truth.

      "Ah, I don't know," I muttered, my mind racing. He let out a sigh, as if he was tired of my half-truths. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the very necklace I thought I had thrown away. My heart skipped a beat, and my mind raced.

      "Baby! Where'd you find that?! " My panic sounded a little louder than I had wished it did. An eyebrow arched up, and surprise flickered within the sudden gleam of his eyes quite clearly; he hadn't anticipated me reacting like that.

     "Found it on the sidewalk," he said, his tone even, but I detected an undercurrent of tension. Sidewalk? I hesitated while piecing this puzzle together. I thought I'd thrown it in an alley. A second later, I got it. And I smiled up at him-the ease palpable in my tone.

    "Baby! Thank you so much!" I wrapped my arms around him tightly, a mixture of gratitude and perhaps a hint of desperation in the hug. He seemed surprised, though I could feel his strong grip on me tightening. Still, he held me back, not letting me pull away.

     "You're welcome." he said, but his smile didn't seem to be reflecting the warmth of his words. I was sure that he was suspicious, yet his arms didn't let me go. I started to pull back, breaking off the embrace, but he wouldn't let me go. I tried to free myself, but his hold was unyielding.

Uh. what are you doing?" I asked, my voice having a slight tremble. His smirk deepened, and he pulled me closer to him, pressing my chest against his. His voice went even lower, and the innocence in his tone was what sent a shiver down my spine.

   "Nothing. Just giving you a hug, my love." I tried to ignore the growing unease in my stomach and said, "But I need to. change my clothes.

He smirked again. "Let me help you change then."

    "Gosh, I'm not a baby!" I snapped, deflecting, while inside I was in a panic-he couldn't see the bruise on my back from the mission.

     "I know you aren't a baby," he replied, his voice now taking on a more seductive tone. "But I just want to help you out.

I felt his arms wrap tighter around my waist, drawing me closer to him, his body pressed against mine. My heart was racing, and I looked up at him, glaring, trying to fight the feeling of growing dread.

      "Baby, stop! I can do it on my own!" I struggled, pushing against him, but his grip remained tight. He just grinned again, finding the struggle amusing. "Alright, fine. You can change on your own." Finally, he let go of me. I immediately retreated, telling myself to change in the bathroom so that I could be alone for a minute. I rushed to the bathroom, changing quickly into something simple-anything to hide the bruise.

      As I emerged, he was still leaning against the wall, waiting patiently. He watched me closely while I walked over to the bed and lay down, his eyes scanning me right from my head down to my toes. "Are you all done changing, love? " I nodded, not meeting his eyes as I laid down on my side. He moved onto the bed, lying down beside me and mirroring my position in a flash. His hand was on my waist; the weight of his hand, the pressure of his fingers. Softer, his voice now, yet it was still very firm underneath: "Turn around. I want to hold you." I knew that he wasn't going to let this go without a fight. He'd found the necklace, and he was still suspicious. And I knew I wasn't getting out of this one, not without him keeping a closer eye on me. But for now, his arms felt suffocating.