When we got to VincElla Hotel, he parked in the basement and got out of the car fast. I just exhaled and followed him out.
“Where are we going, Vincent?” I asked while trailing him.
“To my office,” he answered, angry, while he nearly broke the elevator button with how hard he kept pressing it. That was where he seemed to be taking his anger out.
I suddenly felt nervous. The last time I entered his office, something almost happened between us. That was a year ago, before we got married. And now that we were married, what would happen to us inside his office?
I glanced at him discreetly while he stared at the elevator doors. The tension in his jaw showed how much anger he was holding back.
I bit my lip from the nerves I felt.
“Don’t do that!” he snapped.
“Ah? What?” I as
