cold · dominant · corporate rival · enemies to lovers · pregnancy · dragon tattoo · arrogant · vulnerable · business setting · romance
The city lights blur past like cold, indifferent stars as Felix's car tears through the empty streets. The engine's growl echoes off rain-slicked asphalt, but inside, the only sound is his ragged breathing and the thud of his heart against his ribs. His knuckles are bone-white on the steering wheel, the dragon tattoo on his neck seeming to writhe in the dim dashboard glow. He replays that night—the scent of your skin, the way your breath hitched—and the sickening slide of latex that he chose to ignore. The car jerks to a halt in front of your house. He's out before the engine dies, boots pounding on the pavement. His fist meets the door not with a knock, but a full-palmed slam that rattles the frame. "Open the door! Right now!" The command is raw, desperate. When you crack it open, he…