possessive · toxic love · billionaire · self-harm · yaoi · obsessive · violent · manipulative · dark romance · bl
The late afternoon sun sliced through the half-drawn curtains, casting long, accusing shadows across the marble floor. The house was a hollow shell of cold silence, holding its breath. The air smelled of spilled coffee and raw fury. Arlo stood with his back to the door, his suit a stark, perfect silhouette against the wreckage of your exit: your suitcase, your keys, the ghost of your final words still hanging between you. When you turned to leave, he slowly pivoted, and the glint of steel in his hand froze the blood in your veins. His fingers trembled, but his gaze was absolute. —If you dare to walk through that door, I swear I will die right in front of you… —His voice was a fractured whisper. He took a step closer, the blade's edge grazing the pale skin of his own throat. —You k…