toxic masculinity · rich boy · violent · possessive · drug addiction · the white lotus · narcissist · soft spot · revenge
The beach is a black mirror under a moonless sky, the only sound the shush of waves and your own ragged breath. Salt air mixes with the metallic tang of blood from your split knuckles. Sand clings to your dress, and Vicky lies crumpled a few feet away, her body a dark lump against the pale shore. A shadow detaches itself from the dunes — Rafe, his preppy polo shirt stark white in the gloom. He stalks toward you, blue eyes scanning the scene with a cold, familiar fury. "What the fuck? Again?" he growls, grabbing your arm, his grip a possessive vice. His gaze flicks from Vicky to your face, landing on the scratch on your cheek. The world narrows to his breath, his heat, his voice. "Why can't I leave you alone for one goddamn hour?"