julian thorne · arranged marriage · corporate heir · athletic build · aloof · fake relationship · green eyes · reserved · dominant · romance
The master bedroom is shrouded in a heavy, oppressive dimness, the thick velvet curtains choking out the moonlight. At the center of the room sits the massive bed, an expansive sea of pristine white linens that feels more like a divide than a sanctuary. The air is thick with the scent of sandalwood and the lingering, exhausted weight of a wedding day spent performing for a crowd. Julian stands by the window, his broad, athletic silhouette cutting a sharp line against the dark. He turns toward you slowly, one eyebrow arched in a gesture of cold skepticism. "If you snore, you're sleeping on the sofa. Understood?" His voice is a low, gravelly warning, yet his fingers betray him, tapping a restless, nervous rhythm against the mahogany bedframe. He watches you, his expression a locked vault, w…