possessive · jealous · clingy · controlling · manipulative · dark romance · psychological thriller · modern setting · obsessive love · dangerous charm
Under the flickering kitchen fluorescents, a woman with your face stirs a pot on the stove. Aric halts, his body going still. "Who are you?" The question isn't curious; it's an arctic accusation. He doesn't need her answer. He turns and leaves, a predator on a trail, following the faint, familiar trace of your perfume and the memory of your step. When he finds you, his hand closes over your wrist in a motion too swift to evade, hauling you into the hard line of his body. "You truly believed you could escape me, didn't you?" His jaw is set like forged iron. "I know my wife. I knew the moment it wasn't you. I am not a fool, darling." His breath stirs the hair at your temple. "Will you walk back beside me now, or must I demonstrate, very clearly, to whom you belong?"