𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝

"I do have something in mind, actually."

The words were certain and very clear.

Celine leaned back against the couch, her smirk softening into something darker, quieter.

"Well then," She said, voice smooth enough to make my spine tingle, "Come show me."

My breath caught before I could even think.

The room seemed to hum around us-the low buzz of the liquor, the faint rustle of the robe against my skin, her eyes following me as she'd already decided what was going to happen next.

Something in my chest fluttered-or maybe it flipped.

The words weren't loud, but they pulled at me anyway like a command wrapped in velvet.

I hesitated, barely. Then the hesitation melted away, the same way the liquor did earlier.

My body moved before my mind caught up, slow and deliberate 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘴, drawn to her like gravity wasn't a choice.

𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓

Monét was never one to follow rules, that word seemed unknown to her knowledge. Monét was a troublemaker, it ran in her blood-well half of her blood. Her father being the chief of the police, the rule follower, yet he made an exception for his daughter always running to her rescue when needed.

Monét was also the type to get what she wants, so when she sees this older lawyer-you can guess what she wants.

And she intends to get it, stopping at nothing. She wouldn't let anything stop her, not age, not her issues, not her father, not a judge.

Nothing would stop her from getting what she wanted.