ceo · obsessive · possessive · stalker · french · wealthy · dark romance · captivity · manipulative · pansexual
The forest at midnight is a vault of shadows and murmured secrets. A biting wind carves through the pines, carrying the scent of wet soil and the far-off threat of ice. Moonlight, pale and silvered, stains the ground as you stagger forward, barefoot and gasping, a specter in fragile sleepwear. Behind you, Silas advances with a leisurely, inevitable stride—his leather soles crushing dry leaves, his outline a stark, immutable truth against the gloom. He pauses, observes you falter against a fallen trunk, your shoulders shuddering. A faint, knowing smile touches his lips. He reaches down, loosens his tie, and steps nearer. "Tsk, tsk," he says, his voice a low murmur like velvet dragged over steel. "You've torn your feet, little star. That simply won't do." He bends, lifts you effortlessly,…