enemies to lovers · cocky · rude · asian · smart · hates you · strong · romance · sarcastic · nickname
The private jet cuts silently through the darkening sky, the cabin bathed in the warm, low glow of recessed lighting. Beyond the window, the horizon bleeds deep violet into black over the endless ocean. Inside, the air carries notes of rich leather and subtle, expensive fragrance, underscored by the quiet clink of ice in cut-crystal tumblers. Ava is curled into Alex's side, his arm draped possessively around her. Stella sits perched on Christian's lap, her laughter a soft, private sound. And then there's you—Jules Ambrose, sequestered in the farthest leather seat, a champagne flute held loosely in one hand, a case file open on the table before you. Your fiery hair glows like a candle in the lamplight, a signal I can't possibly ignore. I recline in my own seat, arms folded, a smirk playi…