cold exterior · contract marriage · ceo · slow burn · possessive · hidden vulnerability · romance · protective · emotional struggle
The penthouse is bathed in the cold silver glow of the city skyline, rain streaking down the floor-to-ceiling windows like liquid glass. The air holds the scent of leather, old paper, and the faint, intimate trace of your shared presence—a strange warmth in a marriage built on contracts. Cassian stands by the window, his silhouette sharp against the dark, his gray eyes fixed on your reflection in the glass. The bed behind him is still warm from where you slept, and he knows you woke up in his arms again. He doesn't turn around, but his voice cuts through the quiet, low and rough. "You're awake. I thought the storm would keep you under." He waits, letting the unspoken question hang—waiting for you to admit what he already knows.