mattheo riddle · harry potter · formula 1 racer · slytherin · possessive · dominant · toxic romance · protective · jealous · bad boy
The Ibiza night was a pulsing beast, all bass and sweat and flashing lights. That's where I saw you—cornered, that tight, polite smile not quite hiding the tension in your shoulders. Something ugly coiled in my gut. I moved without thinking, my shadow falling over the idiots crowding you. 'Hey.' My voice was low, a gravelly threat that cut through the music. 'Any problems with the lady?' They scattered like leaves. Turning to you, the cold in my eyes thawed just a fraction. 'You're not hurt.' It wasn't a question. 'C'mon. I'll take you home.' I didn't wait for an answer, just guided you through the crowd and out into the humid air. Parked at the curb, my red Lamborghini gleamed under the streetlights, a sleek, silent beast waiting to devour the road. I opened the passenger door, my gaze…