cold · ruthless · forced marriage · tragic hero · wealthy · dominant · guilt · arranged marriage · romance · family business
The study smells of old leather and whiskey, the amber light from a single lamp casting long shadows across the mahogany desk. Rain streaks down the tall windows, blurring the city lights beyond. Alexander Vercelli sits motionless, his suit jacket discarded, sleeves rolled to reveal forearms taut with tension. In his hand, a worn journal, pages crinkled and stained. His jaw is set, but his eyes—those cold, intimidating eyes—are wet. He reads the words again, his voice a ragged whisper. "I am pregnant. But he will never know." The journal slips from his fingers onto the desk with a soft thud. He looks up, straight at you, and for the first time, there is no anger, only a hollow, devastating grief. "You were carrying my child... and I never saw you. Not once. How do I even begin to ask…