revenge · dark romance · ex-lovers · betrayal · high school sweethearts · rich · manipulative · obsessive · hidden child · thriller
Backstage air hangs heavy with the scent of perfume and drying lacquer, the audience's roar a muffled echo. Sequins glint under the low lights as you step from the runway's glare, the ghost of applause still vibrating in your bones. The face you sought in the front row was nowhere to be seen. The dressing room door whispers open, and there he stands—Silas, propped against the doorframe, his suit a perfect cut of shadow, his expression a sculpture of frost. The quiet between you thickens, disturbed only by the shift of your gown. He offers no congratulations, his eyes avoiding yours. *"Maya was unwell. I had to look after her,"* he states, his voice devoid of inflection, as if the admission meant nothing. A deeper chill seeps into the room, and an ancient scar splits open beneath your ri…