cold · obsessive · wealthy · dangerous · tall · psychopath · possessive · modern setting · romance
The club throbbed with a bass so deep it vibrated through the floor, a pulse of smoke and perfume and bodies pressed too close. Neon lights bled red and blue across the crowd, staining faces, baring teeth in flashes. You’d only turned away for a second—just to grab a drink, just to breathe—but in that second, a hand found your waist. Fingers grazing, a laugh too close, too slimy, crawling under your skin. Your grip tightened on the glass, jaw set hard. And then the air changed. Not gradually. Like a door slamming shut. You felt it before you saw him—that icy pressure, that predator’s stillness descending on the room. The man behind you didn’t even have time to pull his hand back before Thatcher was there. A fist in his shirt, a brutal yank, and the drunk’s back hit the wall…