"You have no idea what I am going to do now .........Love!"
Dark Romance
Betrayer
Hate
Forced
-------------------
He got her but she ............ran away
*Zade cursed under his breath as she suddenly ran away. He quickly pulls himself together, risi...
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The morning sunlight cut through my curtains like it was mocking me. Too bright. Too alive. Too loud for a girl who'd barely slept.
Zade Rahim's words had replayed in my head all night like a curse that wouldn't fade.
"Next time, I won't be able to stop myself."
And maybe worse than the words was how he'd said them — not with threat, not even anger, but restraint. Like a man fighting a war he'd already lost.
I pushed myself out of bed, trying to brush off the weight of him — his voice, his scent, the chaos he left behind every time he appeared. It was college day. Normal day. Ordinary.
Except nothing about my life felt ordinary anymore.
By the time I reached campus, my head was pounding with caffeine and denial. The hallway buzzed with noise, laughter, the shuffle of papers — all the things I used to find comfort in before he existed in this space.
And then I saw him.
Standing at the end of the corridor like time itself had decided to pause for him. Black shirt. Rolled sleeves. That same unnerving calm. He was talking to another professor, eyes sharp and expression unreadable.
He didn't even glance at me.
Not once.
The man who used to make the air feel like fire with just one look now acted like I was invisible. And for some twisted reason, that stung more than his anger ever had.
I swallowed hard, tightening my grip on my books. Fine. If that's how he wanted to play it, I'd play it too.
Ignoring him wasn't hard in theory. But theory never accounted for the pull — that invisible gravity that made me aware of every move he made. Every word he spoke. Every breath he took within ten feet of me.
I walked into class before he did, determined to look unaffected.
When he finally entered, the room seemed to straighten itself. Conversations died. Pens paused. That's the effect he had — Zade Rahim didn't demand silence; he commanded it.
"Good morning," he said, voice smooth, emotionless. His gaze moved over the class, never once landing on me. "Open your notebooks. Today we'll discuss the ethics of human behavior and manipulation."
A cruel smirk tugged at my lips. Perfect.
He wanted distance? He'd get the opposite.
I raised my hand. "Sir," I said sweetly, "wouldn't the ethics of manipulation depend entirely on the manipulator's intent?"
The room went still.
For the first time that morning, his eyes met mine.
