β¦ ππ―π¦π° ππ¬π―π’ππ² β¦
Eris Moreau knew two things for certain: one, people lie; two, money doesn't. That's why she trusted numbers more than promises-and wore her smile like a polished weapon.
She walked into Vanguard Corp like she already owned half the floor, heels clicking, amber-gold eyes scanning the room the way a predator measures distance before pouncing.
Everyone saw her charm. No one noticed her counting-steps, faces, opportunities. Because Eris wasn't there to dream. She was there to win.
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β‘ πππ¦π: Eris Moreau
β‘ Age: 23
β‘ Height: 5'7"
β‘ Occupation: Intern in Corporate Strategy
β‘ Vibe: sunshine smile, survival mode, calculated charm
β‘ Signature traits: warm caramel waves, honey-gold eyes, counting money in her head
β‘ Obsession level: 10/10
β‘ Quote: "If it's legal and pays well, I'll consider it."
β πππ―π¦ππ« ππ―ππ³π’π©π©π’ β
Darian Gravelle didn't enter rooms. He consumed them. Silent, suited, and terrifyingly composed, he could say more with one glance than most men could with a monologue.
People whispered his name like a rumor. But Eris? She looked him dead in the eyes and smiled. And that was the moment everything went off-script.
Because Darian Gravelle didn't believe in accidents. He believed in strategy. And she just became part of his next one.
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β‘ πππ¦π: Darian Gravelle
β‘ Age: 30
β‘ Height: 6'5"
β‘ Occupation: CEO of Vanguard Corp
β‘ Vibe: cold control, silk suits, unreadable eyes
β‘ Signature traits: jet black hair, steel-grey gaze, never blinks first
β‘ Danger level: 9/10
β‘ Quote: "Everything has a price. Including you."
βΎ ππ ππππππ. ππππ πππππ. β½
Neuron:
This story is purely fictional. All names, characters, and events are products of my imagination.
...But if a man like him ever shows up at my door in a tailored suit, calls me by my full name, and says "You belong to me now"
I'm not fighting it. I'm packing a bag.
This book is dark, messy, morally questionable, and probably says a lot about my taste in men.
You've been warned. Now come meet the monsters.
β ππππ ππ πππππ | πππ πππππππ β
i write cause i love it. simple as that. but lets be real, stories dont write themselves. it takes time, brain juice, and yeah⦠a lotta late night coffee. if u're vibin with the story and feel like throwin a lil fuel my way, that support, it hits different.
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