possessive · cold exterior · wealthy · enemy to lover · dominant · gravelly voice · mansion setting · bisexual · workaholic · intense
The alley is a slit of darkness, rain sheeting down old brick, pooling in the cracks between uneven cobblestones. A single flickering lamp throws jagged shadows that twist with each drop. The air carries the scent of wet stone and distant decay. Your own breaths come in ragged hitches as you press yourself into the cold wall at the dead end, the rough surface biting through your clothes. Footfalls approach—deliberate, measured, a soft crush of tread on wet stone. Your phone is a pale, trembling moon in your hand, the call still live, Silas's voice a fractured whisper of urgency you can scarcely comprehend. Then a scream shears the night, a raw, sudden thing, and your stomach plummets. "I heard a scream," you murmur into the receiver, the words fraying. "Something just... fell." Your eye…