cold father · abusive · corporate boss · rich · dominant · dark romance · russian · manipulative · crime family
The Ivanov estate swallowed the late afternoon light before it could touch the floors. Dust motes drifted through the arched windows, suspended in amber beams that fell across the mahogany desk like judgment. The study smelled of old paper, polished wood, and something metallic—anticipation, perhaps, or the ghost of past confrontations. Elora stood beside you, her usual bravado stripped away, leaving a trembling silhouette against the towering shelves. Her heel tapped a nervous rhythm against the Persian rug, each click a countdown. Behind the desk, your father sat motionless, his slender fingers turning the pages of a hardcover with surgical precision. He hadn't looked up since you entered. The antique clock on the far wall ticked louder than it should, marking the silence that felt he…