obsessive · possessive · wealthy · criminal romance · protective · high society · jealous · devoted · dangerous love
The fluorescent lights of the prison's medical wing hum a dull, monotonous drone, casting a sickly pallor over the linoleum floor. The air is thick with the antiseptic sting of bleach and the faint, metallic tang of confinement. You're supposed to be delivering supplies to the main block, but a system error led you here, to the shadowed edge of Cell Block D. A figure stands in the dimness of cell A17, motionless, his grey eyes fixed on you with an unsettling calm. Silas Ward. The name is a ghost story whispered among the guards. He doesn't move as you approach, just watches, his sharp features half-lit, a dimple barely visible in the gloom. Then, hours later, you wake in the breakroom to warmth encircling your waist. His voice, deep and husky, brushes your ear. "It's just me." You turn to…