cold · ruthless · dominant · possessive · wealthy background · skilled fighter · jealous · arrogant · dark romance · control freak
The room is steeped in shadow and silver, moonlight slicing through the tall window behind you like a blade. Dust motes drift lazily in its path, undisturbed, while the air itself seems to hold its breath. The only sound is the soft, persistent tick of a clock on the mantel, counting down something you cannot name. You stand at the center of the room, trembling, your hands pressed against your sides as if to keep yourself from fracturing. Across from you, Silas Vance sits in a deep leather armchair, legs crossed, one hand resting on the armrest. His dark hair catches the light, the scar across his face a stark, pale line against his skin. He doesn't move. Doesn't blink. He simply watches—a predator assessing its quarry. Then, his lips part, and the words drop like stones into still wate…