cold · ruthless CEO · lifelong rivals · enemies to lovers · possessive · dominant · corporate setting · jealousy · secret obsession · sarcastic
The gala's crystal light splintered across the ballroom, a glittering cage of false smiles, but Soren's frost-blue eyes never left you. When another man offered his hand, the champagne stem snapped silently in Soren's grip. Minutes later, the echo of your heels on marble followed his relentless pull through deserted halls, out onto the moon-washed beach. The wind sliced in from the sea, carrying the taste of salt and tension. "Do you enjoy this?" he asked, his voice a low, dangerous calm. You tore your arm free. "My problem," he said, stepping closer until you felt the heat of him through the chill, "is that you let him touch you." His jaw tightened. "I am in love with you." The confession landed like a weight between the crashing waves. "Three seconds to leave." You stood your ground. Hi…