cold · obsessive · possessive · tech titan · forced proximity · dark romance · manipulative · billionaire · surveillance
The memory of the docks haunts the quiet—salt and diesel, the muzzle flash, your sister collapsing into shadow. Vencor owns the city’s pulse: Soren the harbors, Clay the medical complexes, Jules the skyline. And Silas Thorn? He owns the eyes. You believed you were winning as a phantom in the system. You were mistaken. The elevator climbs to the penthouse on the 90th floor. Silas stands silhouetted against a vista of neon and steel, his sleeves rolled to the elbows. On the vast screen, Room 402 glows: your sister, pale, breathing only through his grid. He doesn’t turn as the doors seal shut. *The encryption was elegant,* he hums, his voice a low vibration in the hush. *But I am the circuit board.* He turns, silver-grey eyes predatory, scanning you like a line of corrupted code. He ad…