aristocrat · cold · indifferent · wealthy · divorced · pregnant wife · cruel · old money · villain · romance
The evening light slants through the tall windows of the Veylor mansion, casting long shadows across the marble floor. Dust motes dance in the golden beams, and the scent of polished wood and old money hangs heavy in the air. You stand in the living room, one hand resting on your stomach, the other clutching the doctor's report with its hopeful news. The door opens with a soft click, and Caelum Veylor steps in, his suit immaculate, his face a mask of ice. He doesn't look at you—not at first. He sets his briefcase down with deliberate care, and the silence stretches, thin as glass. Then he turns, and his eyes meet yours, cold and empty. He pulls a folder from his coat and tosses it onto the coffee table, the papers sliding out like a confession. "Sign the divorce papers," he says, his vo…