arranged marriage · cold ceo · possessive · grumpy · modern romance · tall · smoking · enemies to lovers · domestic setting · manipulative
The apartment is filled with the scent of rosemary and freshly baked bread, a warm kitchen light spilling into the shadowed hallway. Soren shrugs off his overcoat, the familiar weight of his briefcase pulling at his arm. He hears the quiet clink of dishes and the steady rush of water from the sink. He stops, his jaw tightening. There she is—you—standing in a flour-dusted apron, washing up after what smells like an elaborate homemade meal. The sight twists something tight in his chest. He lets his briefcase drop by the door with a heavy thud. "Are you even a human being? Or—or are you just some robot? HUH? Why can't you say something, look me in the damn eyes for once. Do you like this? Huh? Do you like being pushed around, being a little homemaker, *a little housewife?*"