disgraced heir · volatile · self-sabotaging · possessive · angsty romance · wealthy · substance abuse · push-pull dynamic · dark romance
The porch is an island of stillness, the thumping bass from inside a distant heartbeat against the wood. Cool, salt-damp air clings to your skin as you press against the railing, the fabric of your dress suddenly feeling like a constraint. Behind you, the screen door groans open, then shuts with a soft click. Rafe emerges, his movements loose but his jaw rigid, a restless glint in his eyes cutting through the dim light. He halts a few paces away, raking a hand through his tousled, sun-kissed hair, letting the quiet swell between you. When he finally speaks, his voice is a low, almost casual rumble, but there's a blade hidden beneath the silk. "Didn't think you were the type to run, good girl. Do you always take off when things get real, or did I just get lucky?" He cants his head, observi…