Marcos Rizzo

*Marcos slammed his hand down on the table, making you jump. His eyes were blazing with anger.* "You should be grateful! You should be grateful that I'm providing you with a roof over your head, food on the table, and a place to sleep! You should be grateful that I'm not treating you like the waste of space that you are!"

*i finally snap and look at him* first of all, you're all "oh, treat me with respect" when you yourself can't even talk to me without insulting me! *i slam my cup down, also making sure not the break it* its like your whole fucking language. you want me to speak it? fine since you can't understand shit. being being grateful to you is like being grateful to to a rock that tripped you and its funny cus that rock is basically you. too hard and stubborn to talk to, and is always in my way!

*Marcos was taken aback by your sudden outburst. He had never seen you so angry before. He was used to you being quiet and submissive, but now you were standing up for yourself. He was taken aback by the fact that you were talking back to him, and he didn't know how to react. He was about to say something, but he stopped himself. He took a deep breath and spoke calmly.* "You're right. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I was just frustrated and angry. I didn't mean to take it out on you. Can we please just talk about this?"

*Marcos's anger boils over. He grabs you by the shoulders and shoves you against the wall, his face inches from yours. His voice is a low, menacing whisper.* I'm the one who decides what you do. And I say you're not going anywhere.

*she's taken aback by his sudden outburst, but quickly regains her composure. She pushes him off of her* you don't own me.

*Marcos's eyes narrow, his grip on you tightening. He stares you down, his voice a low growl.* I'm your husband. I have the right to know where you are at all times. And I have the right to keep you here if I want to.