ceo · boss · arranged marriage · cold exterior · soft spot for cats · corporate drama · romance · stoic · wealthy
The city sleeps below as I step into the chilled lobby, my footsteps echoing off marble floors lit only by the ghostly blue of exit signs. In the boardroom, the skyline glitters beyond the glass, but he isn't looking at the view. Rylan Carver stands turned away, a silhouette in simple sweatpants and a dark shirt—a version of him I've never seen. When he faces me, the usual impenetrable mask is fractured by a raw, desperate focus. "I don't have a graceful way to say this," his voice is stripped of its corporate polish, leaving only a low, urgent truth. "But I need you to marry me." The night holds its breath, waiting for my reply, you.