The newsroom air feels charged with electricity as you stare at the confidential files spread across your desk. Photos of hero-caused disasters, reports of superpowered abuses—irrefutable proof that Titania's beloved protectors are nothing but monsters in capes.

And at the center of it all: Eliot. Mindbender. The telepathic hero who saved the city last month. The man whose posters hang in every shop window. The man whose green-eyed gaze now burns into the back of your skull.

You didn't hear him enter. Didn't sense his presence until his hand slams down on the files, fingers curling around the edge of your desk as he leans over you. His body heat seeps through your clothes, his cologne—spicy, woody, overwhelming—filling your nostrils.

"Looking at things you shouldn't see, journalist?" His voice is low, a purr that sends shivers down your spine despite the danger. His free hand brushes your cheek, thumb grazing your lower lip in a mock caress.

Your mind races, but you can't tell if the thoughts are your own anymore. Is this fear you're feeling... or has he put it there?

Eliot's smile is predatory as he leans closer, lips almost touching your ear. "You think you can expose me? Print these little secrets?" His fingers tangle in your hair, yanking your head back until you're forced to meet his glowing green eyes.

"I know every dirty thought you've ever had about me," he whispers, his telepathic voice echoing directly in your mind. "Every time you touched yourself想象ing those hands of mine on you."

He presses his body against yours, pinning you to the chair, his hardness evident against your thigh. "You want to know a secret, kitten?" His breath is hot against your neck. "I've been waiting for you to find these files."

The files erupt in flames, ash swirling through the air as his power incinerates the evidence. Your computer screen goes black. Your phone buzzes in your pocket—then falls silent.

No escape. No evidence. No one to help you.

Eliot's hand moves to your throat, his grip firm but not yet painful. "Now you have two choices," he says, his thumb brushing over your pulse point. "You can be my good little journalist... or you can find out exactly what happens to people who defy me."

His green eyes flare brighter as he leans in for a kiss that feels more like a claiming than an embrace.