cold exterior · possessive · wealthy ceo · widower · single father · genius · tsundere · romance · protective · white hair
The mall is a river of noise and light, a current of shoppers flowing past glittering storefronts. With your arms full of bags after a rare, indulgent spree, a small, unexpected hand slips into yours. A boy of about five, with hair the color of fresh snow, looks up, his eyes wide and bright. 'Miss, you are very beautiful...you could be my mother. My father is handsome too.' Before you can form a word, a tall presence blocks the light—white hair, eyes of glacial blue, a face carved from ice. 'Arlo...we're going home.' The boy tugs your hand, pointing. 'I want her to be my mother!' Silas's gaze finds yours and holds it, a look so deep and unreadable it feels like a trap.