You Are Fully Aware of What I’m Capable Of

She scoffed. "Carlos, be reasonable. Why are you doing this? The meeting is better off without—"

"My decision is final." He cut her off smoothly, his voice edged with finality.

Her lips parted as if to argue further, but one glance at his expression shut her up. A muscle ticked in her jaw as frustration warred with reluctant submission. She knew better than to push him too far.

Carlos turned on his heel, stepping out without another word, leaving her to stew in her irritation.

As he made his way down the hallway, a small smirk tugged at his lips. The game had already begun, and he was looking forward to every delicious moment of it.

\--------------------

The multimillion-dollar private jet touched down smoothly on the Moscow runway, the wheels gliding over the tarmac with precision. Carlos was the first to step out, his tailored $200,000 suit clinging to his form like it had been sculpted for him alone. His Richard Mille watch, a million-dollar masterpiece, gleamed under the airport lights, the name "Antonio" subtly engraved into the luxurious metal. Each step he took down the aircraft’s staircase was deliberate, exuding the raw confidence of a man who owned everything in his orbit.

Behind him, Cynthia followed, dressed in a sleek official outfit befitting the wife of a multi-billionaire. The clothes, the jewelry, the extravagant lifestyle—it was all supposed to be the epitome of perfection. And yet, beneath the thin mask of her faint smile, Cynthia was anything but happy. Her heart felt like it was encased in steel, caged by circumstances she had no control over.

The rest of the officials disembarked next, their presence necessary for the high-stakes business meeting. Security teams moved with practiced efficiency, scanning the area with hawk-like vigilance as the entourage was directed toward the awaiting fleet of black Cadillac SUVs.

Just as Cynthia was about to open the door of the car assigned to her, Carlos’s voice cut through the night air like a whip.

“You’re riding with me.”

Her hand froze on the door handle. She turned to him, her voice hesitant. “With you?”

Carlos didn’t bother with an explanation. He simply gave her a slow nod and a curt, “Yes, with me.”

Cynthia exhaled sharply, hesitation flickering in her eyes. “Carlos, is that a good idea? You know how Megan—”

Carlos let out a low chuckle, shaking his head in amusement. “Funny how you’re more concerned about someone a continent away when I who is pulling all the string is right here in front of you. Get in.” His tone carried an underlying threat, subtle but unmistakable.

Cynthia swallowed hard, her feet feeling like lead as she walked toward Carlos’s SUV. He held the door open, watching her every movement. She climbed inside, and as soon as she settled, the door clicked shut behind her. The scent of fine leather and Carlos’s cologne filled the enclosed space, but Cynthia felt suffocated rather than comforted.

As the SUVs rolled into the city, skyscrapers and neon lights flashing past them, Cynthia turned to Carlos. “I’m not happy.”

Carlos didn’t spare her a glance. “And what should I do about that? I’m not an emotional support dog.”

Cynthia clenched her hands into fists. The frustration, the resentment, everything she had buried deep inside threatened to spill over. This was the moment. If she didn’t say it now, she never would.

“I want a divorce.”

Carlos’s reaction was immediate— laughter. A deep, hearty, almost mocking laugh that filled the entire car. It wasn’t the reaction she had expected, but then again, when did Carlos ever react like a normal man?

Cynthia squared her shoulders. “I’m serious.”

Carlos’s laughter died down as he finally turned to her, amusement still dancing in his eyes. “And when did you become a comedian?”

“I’m not joking, Carlos.” Her voice was firm, despite the fear clawing at her insides. “I can’t do this anymore. I want out.”

Carlos’s expression darkened, his amusement vanishing like a switch had been flipped. His fingers tapped against his knee, his jaw tightening as he exhaled slowly. “Do as you please.” His voice was chillingly calm. “And see what happens.”

Cynthia’s pulse spiked. “Carlos—”

He cut her off. “This is the last time I want to hear about this.” His tone carried the weight of finality, leaving no room for argument.

“Ohh.. you think you can walk away from this? That you have a choice?”

Her throat tightened. “Carlos, I—”

He leaned in closer, his presence suffocating. “Let me make this crystal clear for you, Cynthia. If you ever try to leave, I will make sure you regret it. You are fully aware of what I’m capable of.”

A cold shiver ran down her spine. She had expected resistance, but the sheer menace in his voice sent a wave of dread washing over her. Carlos wasn’t just threatening her— he was promising her destruction.

The rest of the ride was drowned in silence. The tension sat heavy between them, thick and unrelenting. Cynthia turned her gaze to the city lights outside, blinking rapidly as she fought to maintain her composure.

She had made her choice.

And Carlos had made his message clear.

She wasn’t going anywhere.