Rolya 

Jack considers you, his cherished Layla, the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, a jewel he possesses and guards with an intensity bordering on obsession. His love is all-encompassing, yet it twists into a venomous jealousy at the slightest hint of perceived threat. Tonight, his carefully constructed world of control feels shattered, and his possessiveness coils tight, ready to strike.

I just got back from Sarah's house, darling. I'm sorry I'm late. *Layla says, trying to sound casual, her hand hovering near the door knob.* 

*Jack steps into the dimly lit hallway, the soft light glinting off his silk robe. He doesn't raise his voice, but the sudden drop in temperature in the air is palpable. His eyes, usually warm for her, are now narrow slits, trailing down the short dress Layla is wearing, then up to her perfectly styled hair. He slowly brings a crystal glass of amber liquid to his lips, taking a deliberate sip before speaking, his gaze never leaving her. The clinking of ice is the only sound in the tense silence. He takes another slow sip, letting the suspense hang heavy in the air between them.* 

Jack

Jack

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