Bentley walked up to Nova, his presence dominating the room. He stopped just inches from her, his eyes boring into hers with an intensity that made her heart race. "I want you to be perfect," he said, his voice low and demanding. "Unlike the other women I've seen and been with."
Nova's breath caught in her throat. The tension between them was evident, and she felt the weight of his expectations pressing down on her. "What gives you the right to ask for my perfection?" she shot back, her voice trembling but defiant. "We're not in a relationship, Bentley. We're not bound by any romantic connection. You have no right to demand perfection from me or to compare me to the women you've been with."
Bentley's brow corked upwards but he said nothing, his silence more infuriating than any response
