[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":10},["ShallowReactive",2],{"viewer-data-2603220ECDF1-564":3},{"id":4,"number":5,"name":6,"content":7,"isLocked":8,"price":9,"hasRead":8},564,6,"Chapter 6: The Sound of the Zipper","\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman still remembers that day—the Summer Solstice.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The weather bureau had issued a yellow-level thunderstorm warning.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Driving back from the office, he hit gridlock on the elevated highway after a crash. Wipers lashed back and forth. Through the curtain of rain, he spotted a car pulled over with its hazard lights blinking. Beside it stood a woman, arms wrapped around her shivering frame, drenched to the bone.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Her dark, soaked hair made her skin look bloodless.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Even in the downpour, where the world blurred into gray static, Roman felt the violent trembling of her body.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The traffic was a crawl.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman signaled his driver to stop. He stepped out dozens of yards from the accident, shielding her with a black umbrella.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The rain stopped hitting her skin. Violette Ellis looked up, locking eyes with him. Roman didn't ask a single question; he just shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The smell of dry, heated fabric wrapped around her instantly.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette clutched the lapels, desperate as if she’d grabbed a piece of driftwood in the middle of the ocean.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The rest was handled by Roman’s driver. The other driver, who had been arrogant and demanding just moments before, instantly became pliable the second he realized the woman had two imposing men in her corner.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Only minutes earlier, that man had been spitting fire, demanding two hundred dollars for a minor scratch that wasn't even visible to the naked eye.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette had refused, reaching for her insurance info, but he’d kept drilling into her: \"Female drivers are a hazard to everyone on the road,\" \"Your license is a waste of paper,\" and so on.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The headache was splitting, her phone shattered in the mud during a shove. The stress of the past few days and the online harassment had left her pale, swaying on her feet, arms pulled tight in a pathetic, defensive crouch in the middle of the storm.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Thankfully, Roman had arrived.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Her car was towed to a center for processing.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman put her in his black Bentley. The car smelled of light cologne—the same scent as the suit jacket, a clean, pine-needle crispness. She curled into the corner of the back seat, terrified of staining the expensive leather.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">He glanced at her once in the rearview mirror before stepping out.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">When he returned, he handed her a grey T-shirt.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"I keep it in the car for gym days. It’s the only one I have, but if you don't mind, put it on. I don't want you catching a fever.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Seeing Violette hesitate, Roman added, \"It’s clean.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">He hit a button, and the partition between the driver's cabin and the back seat slid up, sealing her in complete privacy.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette hesitated for a long moment before peeling off her wet dress. The man's shirt was long, falling to her thighs. She folded her wet clothes, tucked them by her feet, and sat in the silence, staring out the window.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Outside, the rainy cityscape bled backward, the roar of the downpour vibrating through the frame.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">She didn't know that up front, the partition was cracked open just enough for him to smoke a cigarette. He couldn't see, but he could hear—the friction of fabric, the rustle of movement in the back.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">A man's imagination is a self-taught, dangerous thing.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The sound of a zipper sliding down cut through his chest like a blade. In the chaotic rain, he hallucinated her skin, white and flawless, a mental image more stubborn than the storm itself. By the time the car pulled up to her building, the cigarette was long gone, but the ghost of the urge remained, heavy and frantic in his veins.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Minutes later, Roman opened the door with his umbrella.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The woman in the back had fallen asleep amidst the long, slow crawl of traffic. Her brow was knitted tight, her face even in slumber guarded, prepared for a blow.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Without thinking, he leaned in to smooth the tension from her forehead.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Suddenly, her eyes snapped open.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Maybe she was awake, maybe she wasn't. Otherwise, why would she look at him with that dazed, hazy expression? She didn't push him away. Instead, she reached out, her arms winding around his neck.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Hold me,\" she whispered.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">...\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Hell.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">How do you break a man with one line?\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Once, he would have scoffed at a man with no willpower. But looking into Violette’s clear, vacant eyes, hearing that simple plea—not even a full sentence—he crumbled. He was a Pavlovian dog, and he dove right in.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">He scooped her up, his mouth crashing onto hers as he kicked the bedroom door open with frantic, desperate strength.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Gentlemanly manners, restraint, poise—all of it vanished.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The most primitive of positions gave him the absolute control he craved.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman loved facing her like this. His night vision was sharp enough to catch the reflection of his own face in her eyes, illuminated only by the faint light from the living room.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">They were married.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">She belonged to him.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The thought sent an electric jolt through his entire body.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">He buried his face against her, his nose pressing into her cheek, his hard features scraping against her softness, catching a smear of tears.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">She was tough as iron to the world, but in these moments, she was nothing but fluid.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman murmured, \"I'm holding you.\"\u003C/p>",false,0,1774272917019]