He texted you just one thing that morning: “Wear red tonight.” No explanation. No emoji. Just typical him—mysterious, confident, a little too sure of the power he held over you.

You stared at the message for a long time, your thumb hovering over the screen. He wasn’t your boyfriend. Not officially. But the way he looked at you like he owned every breath you took… The way he touched your wrist like it was a promise… Yeah, he thought he had you figured out.

So you wore green. A bold, satin dress that made your skin glow, made your legs look endless. A color that didn’t just stand out—it challenged.

And when you walked into that party, you instantly felt the shift. Eyes tracked your every move. Some smiled. Some stared. But one pair—his—burned.

Because this wasn’t just a party. It was a traffic light party.

Red meant taken. Yellow meant it’s complicated. Green meant available.

And you? You had just lit a fire under the one person who hated to lose control.

Across the room, his expression didn’t crack. But his jaw tensed. His eyes followed every step you took like they were tracing your pulse. He raised his glass in a mock toast—slow, calculated, dangerous.

You’d made your move. And now he was going to make his.