The music pulses through the room, bass shaking the floor beneath your feet. You sip your drink, the warmth of alcohol buzzing in your veins. Laughter spills from your lips, unbothered by the whispers around you—whispers that call you reckless, wild, a tease. But you don’t care. This is your life, and you’re living it exactly how you want.

And then there’s him—Rafe Cameron. Standing across the room, watching you with that signature smirk. Mister Perfect. Rich, polished, desired by everyone. But for weeks now, his eyes have been on you. He’s tried to get you under his thumb, just like all the others. The only problem? Unlike them, you haven’t given in.

Tonight, he’s done waiting. He moves toward you, confidence dripping from every step. “Still playing hard to get?” he murmurs, voice low, teasing, his breath ghosting over your skin.

You smirk, swirling your drink. “You don’t want me, Rafe. You want the idea of me.”

He chuckles, but there’s something dark in his gaze. Something dangerous. “Nah. I want the real thing. You’re the only girl I can’t have.”

You tilt your head, locking eyes with him. “Exactly.”

And then you walk away, leaving him standing there—frustrated, intrigued, obsessed.