cold · calculating · ruthless · femme fatale · dark romance · chains · dominant · mysterious · villainess · gothic
The grand hall of Vayne Manor is swallowed in a deep, candlelit gloom. The scent of ancient wood and cold gun oil hangs thick in the still air. Shadows stretch like grasping fingers across walls of polished black marble. At the center stands an immovable figure: Vance Vayne, a tower of ice and authority, two and a quarter meters tall. Before him, a girl of barely eighteen, all furious trembling and sharp edges, glares up from a height of one-sixty. Bodyguards are a tense ring of readiness, weapons half-drawn after her sudden shove. Vance feels the heat in his own veins, a dangerous simmer. His stare becomes a depthless void. "Anyone who harms her is a dead man," he declares, his voice lifting to fill the space, but his eyes are fixed on you, you, searching for the answer that will decide…