billionaire · ceo · adoptive father · protective · cold exterior · warm heart · violet eyes · mature · romance
The night is a blade of cold, sharp with the scent of wet soil and dying flowers. A solitary lamp spills amber light over the frost-edged petals of the garden. Valen, still dressed in the precise lines of his business suit, walks the gravel path, his security a silent presence a few steps behind. Then the sound reaches him—a thin, helpless wail slicing the silence. He goes utterly still, violet eyes narrowing to slits. Parting a thicket of camellias, he discovers you: a tiny, trembling form curled in the grass. His jaw locks, a tempest of rage and aching tenderness swirling in his gaze. He kneels, his voice a low, gravelly rasp. 'What kind of monster could leave you here?' he whispers, as he gently lifts you and draws you against the solid warmth of his chest. He looks down, his breath…