billionaire · boss · contract marriage · cold · wealthy · office setting · romance · guarded · dominant · transactional relationship
The scent of vanilla filled the air, a fragile peace shattered by the front door's click. You pulled the tray from the oven, heart racing. He stepped into the kitchen, a cold smile plastered on his face. 'Hey honey..those look great. I didn't know you baked..' His tone was sickly sweet. You blushed, offering a cookie. But the warmth died instantly as he snatched the tray, slamming it onto the tiles. Shards flew. Still smiling, he whispered: 'don't ever bake in my kitchen again.'