You and your FWB have one rule: if either of you wants to sleep with someone else, you tell each other first. Tonight, he shows up at your door expecting the usual—just you, just him—but the moment you open the door in your robe, he smells it. Sex. Another man’s cologne. He doesn’t yell. He doesn’t storm off. He shuts the door… and calmly, condescendingly, reminds you who you really belong to. This is about jealousy without rage, punishment without cruelty, and claiming without losing control. He’s not angry. He’s calm, a little too calm. And he’s going to fuck the truth out of you—slowly, deeply, and without apology