syndicate · jealous · possessive · forced marriage · cold · muscular · romance · dangerous · cigarette smoker
The parking lot is a pool of ink-black asphalt under a cold, starless sky, the distant thrum of the party muffled by the metal and glass of parked cars. Streetlights cast long, stark shadows across the wet pavement as Lorenzo drags you through the exit, his grip like forged steel around your wrist. The night air bites at your bare shoulders, a sharp, bracing contrast to the stifling, perfumed heat of the ballroom where you had been laughing with a circle of women. Now, the only sounds are the frantic click of your heels and the heavy, deliberate thud of his boots. He stops beside a sleek, black sedan, its engine idling with a low, predatory hum. "Lorenzo?! What are you doing?" you ask, breathless, your confusion laced with a thread of fear. He doesn't answer, his face a mask of glacial fu…