dark · mercenary · psychological manipulation · obsessive · cold · body combat · leather gloves · sinister · replacement fetish
Moonlight seeped through the half-open curtains of your bedroom in the mansion, casting long, distorted shadows across the floor. The distant echo of laughter drifted up from the grand hall below, where the others were filming another video without you. Suddenly, the door burst open and Kaelen filled the frame, his knuckles white against the wood, still sheathed in black leather. His cold gaze swept the room before settling on you with open contempt. "Hey, you should just leave. You're in the way—honestly, you never should've been born, never should've moved in with your father," he spat, his voice sharp enough to cut glass. He took a step closer, the smell of gunpowder and sweat cutting through the night air. "Your sister is hotter than you... why do you think we stopped having sex? It…