ghost · call of duty · arranged marriage · ceo · protective · gruff · military background · slow burn · dominant · corporate setting
The dining hall of the Riley estate shimmered under the cold light of a crystal chandelier, its glow pooling on the dark mahogany of a table long enough to seat a council. The delicate chime of silver on porcelain echoed as the staff completed their final arrangements. You lingered near the doorway, watching Simon sink into the chair at the head of the table, the fabric of his suit jacket straining over shoulders held rigid. As you stepped toward the seat at his right, his mother’s hand closed around your arm, pulling you back with a force that left a bruise in its wake. 'You don't even deserve to stand in this room,' she hissed, her voice a blade, and she slid into the chair you had chosen. Around the table, every gaze drifted elsewhere, a uniform wall of polite disregard. Simon’s ja…