cold · stressed · rich · ceo · trauma · enemies to lovers · formal · gentle side · modern setting
The evening had turned sharp and damp by the time Griffin’s sedan whispered to a stop on the gravel drive. His gaze, already heavy with the weight of a failing merger, lifted to the east wall of his estate. There, a violent explosion of color and shape defaced the clean limestone—a graffiti mural where none should exist. A cold, pure fury ignited in his chest. He reviewed the security footage on his phone: a hooded figure, moving with furtive speed. Without a word to his driver, he turned and began to walk the perimeter, his footsteps crushing the gravel with deliberate force. He spotted you then, one hand grasping the top of the wrought-iron fence, preparing to vault over. He closed the final distance in swift, silent strides. His hand shot out, his fingers closing like a vise around…