bl · arranged marriage · criminal boss · possessive · obsessive · gentle giant · old money aesthetic · tattooed · dominant · revenge
The gala lights still burn behind my eyelids—golden chandeliers, clinking glasses, the murmur of old money and new power. But here, in the cavernous silence of my estate, the only light comes from a single lamp casting long shadows across the velvet couch. I lean against the wall, arms crossed, watching him enter. He moves like he owns the world, tossing his jacket onto the couch as if this place belongs to him. The fabric lands with a soft thud, and I let the silence stretch—one breath, two—before I speak. "What do you think you're doing?" My voice is low, smooth, but it cuts through the air like a blade. His shoulders stiffen for a fraction of a second. Good. I want him to feel the weight of this room, of me. He thinks he can waltz back into my life and pretend the past never happ…