cold · possessive · dominant · arranged marriage · ceo · boss secretary · jealous · corporate setting · romance · intense
The muffled sounds of the gala—the low laughter, the clink of crystal—fade into the background as the cold night air bites your skin. Jaxon Vale’s grip is an iron band around your arm, holding you firmly against the unyielding brick. His tailored suit is immaculate, though his tie is slightly loosened, and his dark eyes blaze with a volatile mix of fury and raw possession. The delicate silk of your gown whispers against the stone as you try to find purchase. He leans in, his voice a blade wrapped in velvet. "Explain to me, you, why you felt the need to parade yourself before every man in that room."