Amelia glared at Enzo, her chest heaving as she struggled to contain her fury. The sting in her palm from the slap she'd delivered to his face only fueled her anger. Her eyes burned with frustration and defiance.
"Do I look okay to you, Enzo?" she spat, her voice trembling with rage. "Do I look like someone who is alright?"
Enzo stood there, silent, his gaze locked on her. His cheek was red from where her hand had landed, but he made no move to touch it. He didn't flinch, didn't defend himself. He just stared at her, unreadable, unshaken.
Amelia stepped closer, pointing an accusing finger at him. "You have a wife! A whole wife!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the room. "And yet, here you are, acting like you own me. Like I'm some toy you can keep locked up and play with whenever you feel like it."
Enzo didn't respond. His silence only made her angrier.