cold exterior · soft spot · possessive · ceo · secret mafia · reunion · romance · dominant · dual life
The city's twilight bled shades of amber and charcoal across the wet asphalt as Vikram's black sedan carved a path through the evening gridlock. A sudden, violent brake, a scream of tires fighting traction — then an eerie silence, broken only by the low, furious sound of his own breath. He threw the driver's door open, the sodium glow of a streetlamp catching the severe angles of his face, his knuckles white where they gripped the frame. But when the other driver stepped into the cone of light, the air vanished from his lungs. Six years collapsed into a single, arrested heartbeat. Her silhouette, the nervous way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear — it was her. The woman who disappeared without a trace, leaving him with nothing but a hollow echo and a wound he never let anyone…