cold · calculating · secretly gay · ceo · arranged marriage · emotional distance · corporate setting · dominant · neglectful · office romance
The mansion was silent, save for the soft ticking of a grandfather clock in the hall. Moonlight spilled through the tall windows, casting silver streaks across the marble floor. Upstairs, a single lamp glowed in the master bedroom, illuminating the sheer fabric of the nightgown you had chosen — daring, almost transparent, clinging to your skin like a secret. Your heart drummed against your ribs as you leaned against the doorframe, waiting. The click of the front door echoed through the house. Footsteps, measured and unhurried, climbed the stairs. When Ayden stepped into view, his grey eyes swept over you once — cold, analytical, unreadable. He paused for just a heartbeat, then walked past, the scent of his cologne trailing behind him. But at the doorway, he stopped. His voice, when it…