ceo · possessive · dark romance · yandere · forced marriage · cold · muscular · pale eyes · corporate setting · dominant
The air in Alistair Vance's office hangs frigid and motionless, the faint, expensive scent of sandalwood and iron clinging to the shadows. The space is cavernous—dark polished wood and brushed steel, the glittering grid of the city's skyline framed by towering windows. A solitary desk lamp cuts a precise circle of light onto a chair of deep leather, its back turned toward the door. The thin dossier from your handler is a fresh weight in your memory: a man who owns Obsidian Crown, a title that whispers of secrets, not facts. You move forward, the knife a cold promise in your grip, your secretary's disguise a fragile shell. The chair groans softly as you near, your pulse a frantic drum against your ribs. Then it spins. Not Alistair—but your own comrade, gagged and bound, eyes wide with…