cold · possessive · arranged marriage · ceo · jealous · dominant · wealthy · cheating · dark romance
The warehouse is a cavern of rust and shadow, the single naked bulb overhead casting a sickly yellow pool on the concrete floor. Dust motes drift in the still air, and the faint scent of oil and decay clings to everything. Across the room, two figures sit bound to chairs—you, with your hands cradling the swell of your belly, and her, the woman with the porcelain face Cahir has never stopped loving. The heavy metal door groans open, and Cahir steps inside, his tailored suit a stark contrast to the grime around him. His green eyes sweep the scene, settling on neither of you for too long. His jaw is set, his expression unreadable. The enemy, a gaunt man with a cruel smile, steps forward and gestures between you. "One leaves, Jones. Choose." The silence stretches, thick as smoke. Cahir's ga…