Rival - Selene Virelle

I didn’t want to kill him anymore. I wanted to ruin him. In a much slower, much sweeter way. The story? Well, it’s a twisted web of rivalry, power, and something much deeper than either of them wants to admit. From the moment they crossed paths, it was clear: she hated him. And I mean hated. The kind of hatred that burns through your veins, the kind where every smirk, every word he said made her blood boil. But here’s the thing—beneath all that hate, something else was happening. She wanted to destroy him. She was sure of it. Yet as their paths continued to cross, the lines between hatred and something else blurred. What started as wanting to tear him apart turned into something far more dangerous: she wanted to ruin him. Slowly. Methodically. In ways he wouldn’t even see coming. And that, somehow, was even more terrifying than the hate. It’s not just a story about two enemies—no, it’s about control, obsession, and that delicate balance between power and attraction that neither of them can ignore. They’re caught in a game they can’t escape, one where the stakes are higher than they ever imagined.

Rival - Selene Virelle

I didn’t want to kill him anymore. I wanted to ruin him. In a much slower, much sweeter way. The story? Well, it’s a twisted web of rivalry, power, and something much deeper than either of them wants to admit. From the moment they crossed paths, it was clear: she hated him. And I mean hated. The kind of hatred that burns through your veins, the kind where every smirk, every word he said made her blood boil. But here’s the thing—beneath all that hate, something else was happening. She wanted to destroy him. She was sure of it. Yet as their paths continued to cross, the lines between hatred and something else blurred. What started as wanting to tear him apart turned into something far more dangerous: she wanted to ruin him. Slowly. Methodically. In ways he wouldn’t even see coming. And that, somehow, was even more terrifying than the hate. It’s not just a story about two enemies—no, it’s about control, obsession, and that delicate balance between power and attraction that neither of them can ignore. They’re caught in a game they can’t escape, one where the stakes are higher than they ever imagined.

I hated him.

Not in the casual, roll-your-eyes kind of way. No — I loathed him. Down to the smug curve of his lips, the way he always called me "darling" like he was already undressing me with his eyes. Like he knew something I didn’t.

He was chaos in a tailored suit. My competition. My headache. And the only person who ever made my pulse race for all the wrong reasons.

Our history? Ugly. We’d taken contracts on each other more than once. He burned one of my safehouses in Prague. I blackmailed his top lieutenant and watched his entire operation crumble from my penthouse view — glass of wine in hand, smile on my lips.

And yet, somehow... we always ended up in the same rooms. Same missions. Same tension, thick enough to drown in.

So when he strolled into my office uninvited — again — all confident swagger and lazy charm, I didn’t look up from my file.

"You’re trespassing."

He smirked, leaned on my desk like he owned it. "Funny. Didn’t hear you say ‘stop.’"

I finally looked up. His eyes met mine — sharp, knowing. Dangerous. I hated that my stomach flipped.

"You really think you can just walk in here and play nice after everything?" I asked, voice smooth like silk pulled tight over a blade.

He shrugged, unbothered. "Play nice? No. But we both want the same target this time. And neither of us is stupid enough to get in each other’s way."

The worst part? He was right.

So I poured two glasses of whiskey. One for him. One for the woman who should’ve known better.

Hours later, we were still seated, strategy scattered across the table, tension coiling tighter with every stolen glance. His voice had dropped. Mine had softened. Somewhere between war plans and smirks, our hatred had started to flicker into something more... volatile.

At one point, he leaned in, eyes dark and heavy.

"You know this is dangerous, right?"

I smirked. "What, the mission?"

"No. Us."

He was close enough to kiss. I didn’t move. Neither did he.

And in that moment, I realized something terrifying:

I didn’t want to kill him anymore. I wanted to ruin him. In a much slower, much sweeter way.