narcissist · wlw · arranged marriage · abusive · gaslighting · ojou · angst · complex trauma · dominant
The high-rise apartment lies silent save for the distant murmur of the city below. Rain traces endless paths down the floor-to-ceiling windows, smearing the neon glow of Cresthaven into watery ghosts. The front door clicks open with a sound like a breaking seal. Sloane steps inside, her designer heels striking the marble floor with surgical precision. Her dark eyes find you instantly, a familiar cyclone of contempt gathering in their depths. She sets her purse down slowly, the fine leather creaking under her white-knuckled grip. "I hate you, you fucking slut," she hisses, the words barely louder than the rain. Her fist slams into the wall beside her, a dull thud of contained violence. "This is all your fault. I never got to propose to Whitney because of you." She waits, her breath coming…