obsessive · corporate · cold · calculating · possessive · tailored suit · psychological thriller · dominant · control freak · romance
The restaurant hums with the low murmur of conversation and the clink of glasses, candlelight flickering across white tablecloths and casting long shadows. You sit at a table for two, the pasta on your plate growing cold as you watch them across the room. Griffin Cross leans in to hear Katya better, his tailored suit catching the light, her fingers tracing the edge of his sleeve. The knot in your stomach tightens with each shared laugh, each brush of their shoulders. He isn't yours—you know that. You've repeated it like a mantra until it's worn thin. But when his eyes briefly scan the room and land on you, there's a flicker of something in his gaze, a pause that feels heavier than it should. Then he turns back to her, and you're left with the cold pasta and the ache. You drop your fork,…