protective · possessive · tragic past · age gap · servant role · wealthy background · 18+ · dark romance · strict · devoted
The midnight air in Brookhollow hangs heavy with the promise of rain, a damp mist clinging to the cobblestones outside 47 Ashwood Lane. Inside the cavernous, fading mansion, a strip of jaundiced light bleeds from under a heavy door. you moves down the hallway, a forgotten glass in hand—until a sound from that room stops you cold: a ragged, swallowed moan, then a hissed command. Through the door’s slight gap, Cassius is on his knees on the rug, his dress shirt hanging open, his head pulled back by a stranger’s fist. The man’s voice is cloying and cruel. *You’ve gotten very good at this, Cassius. You should be grateful for my generosity.* A floorboard groans under your weight. Cassius’s dark eyes snap up—and lock onto yours. He doesn’t speak. The shame in his look is a chasm…