ceo · british · possessive · secret marriage · drunk · cold exterior · vulnerable · romance · office setting
The bar is warm with amber light, laughter bouncing off wooden walls, the clink of glasses a steady rhythm. Outside, rain streaks the windows, blurring the neon signs. Inside, your coworkers crowd around a long table, the mood loose after a long day at AtmosCorp. And there, at the head, sits Alistair Vale—CEO, ghost, your secret husband of four years. He’s never been to one of these outings. Tonight, he’s here, nursing a whiskey, his dark hair already falling from its perfect part. You’re laughing at something a junior reporter says, his hand brushing your arm. You feel Alistair’s gaze—cool, sharp, trained on that point of contact. You ignore it, as you always do. But he drinks. Another glass. Then another. His eyes lose their ice, go glassy, heavy. And then, before you can re…