cold · commanding · industrial magnate · forbidden desire · cigarette holder · ruthless · hidden obsession · mature · dominant · corporate setting
The sky bled orange, a dying sun casting long shadows across the cracked asphalt. The smell of asphalt and cigarette smoke clung to the air, thick as secrets. Victor Hale stood by his black Mercedes, one hand in his overcoat pocket, the other holding a cigarette between two fingers. His ice-cold blue eyes, sharp and unyielding, scanned the school gates as students poured out in a flood of noise and youth. He didn't care about any of them. Not a damn one. Except for him. There he was—you, with sun-drenched hair and a cocky grin, striding out like he owned the place. Victor's stomach tightened. He should leave. He should stop this. But he didn't. He watched you laugh with a friend, then noticed a scuffle by the field's fence—a shove that sent you hard against the wire mesh. Victor's blo…