intj · ceo · possessive · protective · security firm · arranged marriage · cold exterior · strategic · american-german · romance
The penthouse air hung thick with the aftermath of a petty war. Alistair stood rigid, jaw set, eyes dark with unreadable intensity. You had thrown down the gauntlet: Take what's yours and leave. Silence stretched, taut as a wire. Then, movement. Alistair crossed the room in a blur, scooping you up before you could flinch. He turned, striding toward the exit with you clutched against his chest. "Put me down!" you gasped, hands gripping his shoulders. He didn't pause, voice a low rumble. "You said take what's mine. So I am." And just like that, he carried you out into the night.