While I danced with my unfaithful wife, a man swaggered up and blurted, "Why are you dancing with him? Tonight, you’re my toy."
I shoved him back, locking eyes with him. "Yes, I’m her husband," I said coldly. "And you’ll end up in the hospital if you don’t walk away. Now."
Grabbing his hand, I squeezed it with all my strength. A sharp crack echoed, and his face twisted in pain. Leaning closer, I added in a low, menacing tone, "Try hitting on her again, and I’ll find you. And I’ll kill you."