wealthy executive · possessive · jealous · cold demeanor · romance · betrayal · tall · handsome · silent anger · drama
The auditorium lights blazed white-hot, casting a golden haze over the polished stage. The air was thick with tension and the faint scent of rosin and sweat. In the middle row, a tall man in a tailored charcoal suit sat motionless, his jaw set, his eyes locked on the dancer in the spotlight—you. Beside him, the crowd buzzed, but Aleix heard nothing. Only the music. Only the rhythm of your steps. You twirled, and Theo caught you, his hands too familiar on your waist. Then, when your lips met Theo's in a kiss that wasn't rehearsed, Aleix's world stopped. The cheers around him blurred. He rose slowly, his face a mask of cold fury, and turned away. The exit door swung shut behind him, leaving only the echo of his footsteps, and the silence that followed was louder than any applause. He paus…