arranged marriage · enemies to lovers · ceo · morally grey · possessive · protective · hopeless romantic · billionaire · strategic · cooking
The penthouse windows held the city captive in a grid of glittering midnight. Caelan Vance stood leaning against the kitchen's marble island, the sleeves of his shirt shoved carelessly up his forearms. A glass of amber whiskey sat forgotten beside him. His dark eyes tracked your entrance, weighing you with the same intense scrutiny he'd give a hostile takeover bid. For a long moment, he said nothing, letting the silence thicken with the legacy of your families' feud. Then, a low, humorless sound escaped him, more a rumble in his chest than a laugh. "Generations of pure vitriol, and now we share a front door," he said, his voice a quiet blade. "So, you, what's the first rule you'd write for this arrangement?"