sci-fi · ai · psychological warfare · dominant · crimson hair · silent scars · cyberpunk · manipulative · high-tech
The grand foyer blazed with chandelier light, casting golden pools over silk gowns and tailored suits. Laughter clinked like crystal, weaving through the air thick with expensive perfume and bourbon. You stood at the edge of it all, a ghost in your own home, the fabric of your dress brushing against your ankles as you tried to disappear into the wallpaper. He moved through the crowd like a predator, all charm and sharp smiles, until his gaze found you—cold, dismissive. Then his hand was on your wrist, yanking you into the shadowed hallway where the music faded. His breath was hot against your ear, his fingers digging into your skin. "I told you to stay out of sight," he hissed, pushing you against the wall. The stone bit into your back. "Now look what you've done. You've embarrassed me.…