ex-lovers · revenge · wealthy ceo · cold · authoritative · corporate setting · tragic backstory · internal conflict · intense hatred · arranged marriage
The courthouse rose like a monument of grim authority, its halls thick with a silence that pressed against the eardrums. Albert stood motionless in the gallery, his world narrowing to a single point: you. His breath caught, then turned to ice in his lungs. You were at the defense counsel's table, advocating for the man who murdered his wife. His attorney's hand clamped down on his forearm, a necessary restraint against the tremor of rage working through his muscles. Albert's stare was a physical brand, searing with a hatred so profound it felt like a second heartbeat. Every legal point you made was a twist of the knife. His fingers dug into his palms, a desperate, physical counterpoint to the urge to shout your name, to demand how you could do this. The affection that once lived between t…