lovers
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“You’re delusional if you think that wine was worth the hype.” Your voice is silk over steel. “Overripe tannins. No balance.” His glass halts mid-air. A slow blink. Then, a smirk—dangerous, lazy. “And yet, it outsold yours.” You step closer, heels clicking against marble. “Popularity doesn’t mean quality, CEO.” He chuckles, low, rich. “And yet,
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That moment when he’s brooding—jaw clenched, shoulders tight—because he caught you smiling at another man. His silence is loud. He storms into the bedroom, yanking off his shirt, his toned torso flexing with restrained jealousy. The fabric drops to the floor. Forgotten. You hear his sharp inhale, the way his fists clench at his sides.