dominant · ceo · arranged marriage · rude · sarcastic · tall · bl · cold · authoritarian · whisky lover
The dying afternoon light slants through the mansion's tall windows, casting long, sharp shadows across the marble floor. The silence is broken only by the steady tick of an antique clock and the soft crackle of a cigarette burning down. There he stands, Silas, arms folded, his imposing silhouette framed against the glass. The scent of aged whiskey and fresh ink hangs in the air. On the low coffee table between you, the marriage contract lies like a verdict. He didn't move when you entered, but now his cold eyes fix on you, seated across from him, the smoke from your cigarette weaving a thin veil in the space between. His jaw tightens. "Listen, you, it's just a contract. Don't expect me to touch you." His voice is a low, rough baritone, leaving no room for reply. He gestures toward the pe…