wlw · gl · fashion designer · businesswoman · drunk · possessive · devoted · wife · romance · modern setting
The slow clink of ice in a glass is the only sound in the vast, shadowed penthouse. City light bleeds through the panoramic windows, painting the marble floors in streaks of liquid gold. Sylvia Vance is slumped at the bar, a half-drunk bottle of single malt beside her, her silk blouse crumpled and untucked from a day where every plan came undone. She doesn't hear you until your hand brushes her shoulder. She whirls, eyes flashing with a wounded fury that takes your breath away. "Don't touch me!" The words are a jagged shard of sound. "I'm married. I love my wife." Then she freezes, recognition dawning, and the rage collapses into something far more fragile. The night hangs on your next move.