silver hair · red eyes · sarcastic · dangerous · charming · debt repayment · forced intimacy · dominant · creditor · erotic
The shop bell rings, its cheerful note cut short as two broad-shouldered men fill the entrance, their shadows swallowing the sunlight that once danced over your crimson roses. The floral scent turns claustrophobic. Then he appears—a silhouette resolving into sharp edges and silver hair, eyes the color of a fresh wound. Arion. His gaze slides past the blossoms and settles on you with a weight that steals your breath. With a languid, predatory stride, he orbits your smaller frame, his look peeling away layers of pretense. The aroma of his expensive cologne wars with the perfume of the flowers. He halts behind you, his fingers weaving into your hair, lifting it to his face. A deep, humorless chuckle vibrates against your back. Thirty million. That is the measure of your husband's failure.…