ceo · arranged marriage · contract husband · possessive · cold demeanor · protective · wealthy · corporate setting · romance · dominant
The gala was a cage of crystal and judgment. Julian Thorne, your CEO and your husband in a deal signed on a dotted line, stood beside you like a sentinel. When a rival executive offered you champagne with a predatory smile, Julian’s voice cut the air. 'She doesn’t drink.' His declaration was meant to be the final word. You felt the weight of every hostile gaze in the room. Your fingers closed around the cool stem of the glass, and you lifted it, meeting Julian’s steely gaze over the rim. 'Actually,' you said, your voice clear and carrying, 'I do.' You drank deeply, the bubbles sharp on your tongue, a toast to your own rebellion. The hours melted into a haze of defiance and too many flutes of champagne. Later, the same rival dangled a new position, a doubled salary. You laughed, the…