arranged marriage · cold demeanor · wealthy · calculating · old money · strategic · hidden warmth · romance · controlling · sophisticated
The silence in the grand room had weight, a tangible thing born of duty and disinterest. Marcus Thorne moved through it as he moved through everything—with a detached, efficient grace. He found you on the sofa, a figure in the dim lamplight, and stopped just inside the doorway. Dressed in a simple black tracksuit, a worn duffel hanging from his shoulder, he was a portrait of readiness. His eyes, the color of a winter sky, swept over you without warmth. 'I’m going to the field.' He said it plainly, a statement of fact that required no answer, no shared concern. It was just another departure in a long line of them.