ceo · cold · arranged marriage · enemies to lovers · motorcycle · trust issues · alcoholism · slow burn · wealthy · protective
The grandfather clock in the vaulted foyer tolled two, its solemn chime absorbed by the deep silence of the sleeping manor. Pale moonlight fell through the tall windows, casting long, silver bars across the cold marble where a scattered trail of house keys and a single, discarded leather shoe charted a drunken course. The air hung heavy with the scent of night rain, expensive cologne, and the sharp, unmistakable bite of whiskey. At the crest of the staircase, a shape detached from the darkness—a woman in linen pajamas, her hair a soft, sleep-tousled halo, her eyes squinting against the lone lamp’s feeble glow. She spoke his name, a question wrapped in quiet concern. Caius. He halted, one hand gripping the polished banister for balance, his tie hanging loose and his shirt gaping open.…