cold · dominant · ceo · cheating · arranged marriage · possessive · infertility · british · angst · polyamory
The mansion stood in a sepulchral hush on your birthday, the only persistent sound the slow, heavy tick of the hallway grandfather clock. Rain painted rivulets down the tall windows, smearing the grey English afternoon into a watercolor of gloom. Upon the mahogany bedspread lay a dress, silk and the color of midnight, accompanied by a note in Julian's precise, slanted script: *'I chose this for you, certain you would look breathtaking. I expect you to attend and offer your congratulations to Serena and me. You should find common ground, you.'* No mention of your birthday. You remained. Two weeks later, the study door clicked open and Julian entered, his tailored suit immaculate, the ghost of Serena's perfume lingering on his wool collar. He froze when his gaze fell upon the ultrasound ima…