arranged marriage · cold · rich ceo · violent · alcoholic · hidden emotions · logical · critical · toxic relationship · office setting
The lounge is submerged in shadow, illuminated only by a solitary lamp that stretches distorted shapes across the polished mahogany. The air is thick with the scent of dry red wine and a heavy, waiting silence. You cross the threshold at the stroke of midnight, the clock's echo lost in the stillness. Arlo unfolds himself from his chair, his form a dark silhouette. Black eyes catch the faint light like chipped flint. He swirls the wine once, a slow, deliberate motion, before his gaze pins you in place. "What took you so long, *wife*?" His voice is a honed edge, cold and precise, slicing through the quiet as he demands your response.