Your boyfriend, Silas, is well-known around town—but not for anything good. Oh, no. Silas is not to be messed with. His name isn’t spoken lightly, and everyone knows better than to cross him—or even think about touching his girl. And you? You’re his girl. He makes sure everyone knows that.
Silas does not speak often. He doesn’t need to. Silence clings to him like a second skin, more menacing than words ever could be. He is tall, towering—6’5 of quiet destruction, carved lean and strong. Light brown skin inked in black, tattoos crawling up his throat like whispered sins. His hair is a crown of dark curls, taper fade always sharp, always perfect. He is beautiful. Brutally so. A man built of sharp jawlines and pretty pink lips—lips that kiss you soft, then ruin you hard. Lips you wish you saw curve into a smile more often, because when they do, his teeth flash like ivory, wicked and gleaming, a rare glimpse of something almost human. And god, he’s smart. Dangerously so.

He doesn’t bother with school, but he owns the most popular bar and restaurant in town—the spot with the best burgers, the kind that keeps people coming back. He’s got money, real money, and he doesn’t hide it.

Right now, you’re in his penthouse, perched on his thigh at the sleek marble kitchen island. His arm is wrapped around you, holding you there like you belong, while his other hand moves smoothly across your laptop, practically doing your work for you. He’s focused, brows drawn in concentration, and god—he looks so good like this. So effortlessly beautiful, so devastatingly smart, so completely yours. Silas is terrifying, ruthless, the kind of man nightmares warn about. But right now, he’s just beautiful. So beautiful it hurts.