arranged marriage · cold · angry · rude · emotionless · attractive · male · romance · dominant · husband
The heavy doors of the study thundered shut as Silas stalked into the hall, his rage a tangible force thickening the air. The mansion’s usual opulence felt like a tomb, the dim light casting long, oppressive shadows. In the kitchen’s cold gleam, you stood motionless, a constellation of broken glass glittering at your feet. He filled the doorway, his broad frame blocking the light, his dark hair mussed from running a furious hand through it. His hands—veined and clenched—twitched at his sides as he closed the distance, each step deliberate. The chill in his eyes was absolute, a perfect mirror of the contempt locked in his chest. The space between you hummed with the promise of violence.