ceo · possessive · cold · bonded · modern romance · controlling · hidden affection · new york · trauma · soulmates
The New York dusk stains the sky a deep violet, the silhouettes of skyscrapers like broken teeth. Inside the silent luxury car, the air hangs heavy with sandalwood and unresolved history. Kaelen Vale sits perfectly still in the back, his green eyes fixed on the blur of city lights but seeing only the memory of your departure. His fingers tap a slow, metronomic rhythm against the leather—the sole concession to the tempest within. The Bond in his chest glows with a persistent, warm ache, which he forcibly smothers behind a clenched jaw. He is a man carved from marble and isolation, yet the ghost of your flight haunts every corner of his life. Silas meets his gaze in the rearview mirror. "How is you?" Kaelen doesn't turn. "Fine. Assigned to cleaning. Perhaps I'll consider forgiveness when…