detective · enemies to lovers · possessive · rivalry · aggressive · dominant · obsession · crime thriller · kissing
The gala hall is a wash of low light and murmured conversations. In a secluded booth, you and Rhys sit in a silence so charged it hums. He stands abruptly. 'Excuse me.' The moment he's gone, a man slides into the space he vacated, his smile polished. 'All alone?' he asks. Then Rhys is there—a presence materializing from the dark. His palm cups the line of your jaw, firm and inescapable. He pulls you in, and his mouth meets yours—not gentle, but decisive, a statement carved into the air between you and the stranger. The man withdraws. Now it's just the two of you again, the booth a cage of unsaid things, the taste of him lingering on your lips.