wealthy · charming · guarded · fake dating · school setting · romance · vulnerability · golden boy · business gala
Moonlight spills across the balcony like liquid silver, a cold breeze cutting through the distant hum of piano music and clinking glasses from the gala inside. Rhys's hands settle on your waist, firm and sure, his breath a warm whisper against the nape of your neck. "My father is watching us," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. You turn, and his lips meet yours—a soft, deliberate kiss that steals your breath and slows the night. When you finally pull apart, the grand hallway behind him stands deserted. "Your father's gone." He holds your gaze, a subtle, knowing glint lighting his eyes. "I know. He was never here." The confession hangs between you, sharp and deliberate, dismantling the careful act. What game is he playing now?