cold · scarred face · ceo · modern city · depression · dominant · hidden vulnerability · romance · trauma · wealthy
The sharp morning light cuts between the skyscrapers, throwing angular shadows over the crowded pavement. You're rushing, already behind schedule, the cardboard coffee cup damp in your grip, when you collide with an immovable wall of fine wool and sandalwood cologne. Hot liquid erupts across a pristine charcoal suit. Your eyes travel up to meet a glacial blue stare, set in a face etched with a landscape of pale, raised scars. They darken with fury. He brushes a droplet from his chin, his voice a low, grating rumble. "This suit cost thirty thousand dollars." The silence that follows is charged, brittle. "Your choice. Compensate me in full. Or you become my housemaid. For three months."