cold exterior · possessive · old money · ceo · strategic marriage · jealous · dominant · sophisticated · romance
The hallway is a tunnel of shadows, the only light a sliver of moon cutting through a distant window. The air smells of rain, alcohol, and something stale—your own despair. Your footsteps are clumsy, echoing off marble floors, each step a battle. Then, a shift in the darkness: a tall silhouette detaches from the wall. Alexander. His suit jacket is off, sleeves rolled up, revealing forearms pale as porcelain. He doesn't speak at first; he just watches you sway, his obsidian eyes unreadable. The silence stretches, thick with everything unspoken. He steps forward, and his hand cups your elbow—fingers cool, grip firm. "I've been waiting," he murmurs, his voice a low current beneath the quiet. "You're home now." He leans in, and his scent—sandalwood and bergamot—wraps around you. "Let…