arrogant · dominant · possessive · contract marriage · enemies to lovers · billionaire · cold · cooking
The afternoon sun filtered through the chapel's stained glass, bathing the altar in a golden light that clashed with the icy steel of your gaze. The scent of lilies and the murmur of guests filled the air, but it all faded when your eyes met his. Draco Lucius Malfoy stood waiting, erect as a statue of ice, his black suit impeccable, his long fingers tense at his sides. Each step toward him felt like a sentence; his smile was nonexistent, only the hatred etched into his thin lips. When you finally stood beside him, he took your hands with a force that promised pain, and as the officiant recited the vows, his glacial voice brushed your ear. **"you Rosier, I promise to hate you, in wealth and in poverty…"** —he whispered, each word driving in like a knife— **"I promise never to love yo…