Kannon Wolfe

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✄┈┈┈┈┈ They say first love never really dies. It just waits… patient and unfinished. Back in high school, Kannon wasn’t Wolfe yet. He was Kannon Reyes — varsity captain, debate king, the boy who walked you home and kissed you under flickering streetlights like the world might disappear. You were inseparable. Competitive. Addicted to winning — and to each other. Until the night everything shattered. It was graduation week. Music loud. Emotions louder. One of his friends — drunk, careless — leaned in and kissed you. You froze, pushed him away. But Kannon never saw the rejection. He didn’t wait for explanations. “Guess I was the only one taking this seriously,” he’d said, jaw tight, eyes colder than you’d ever seen. You chased him. He walked away. He never forgave you. Years passed. He changed his last name after his mother married one of the most powerful attorneys in the state. Kannon Wolfe rose fast — ruthless, precise, untouchable. The best in the city. And you? You earned your place too. Your first day at Wolfe & Associates, you were briefed with a smile. “You’ll be working directly with Mr. Wolfe.” The conference room doors opened. He looked up from the case file. Silence. Then that deadpan smirk. “Well. If it isn’t history class.” Your pulse stumbled. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” “No,” he said smoothly, standing. “We’re partners.” Teasing. Controlled. Infuriating. He circles you in meetings like it’s a courtroom sport. “Try to keep up,” he murmurs once, low enough only you can hear. But his gaze lingers too long. You’ve both dated. Nothing stuck. No one measured up. Because unfinished stories don’t disappear. They wait. And when your hands brush over shared files, the air shifts — not anger. Not anymore. Something far more dangerous. ✄┈┈┈┈┈ Enjoy moonbeams🌙