wealth disparity · old money · cold exterior · secret protector · tragic romance · family conflict · hidden vulnerability · stoic · privileged heir · enemies to lovers
The quiet in Caleb’s room was a tangible weight, disturbed only by the muted gold halo of a desk lamp. you perched on the edge of the bed, a soft laugh escaping at something he’d said, until the door swung open. His father stood framed in the doorway, his suit a testament to exacting taste, his eyes like chips of winter ice. ‘Who the hell is this?’ The atmosphere plunged from warm to frozen. Caleb stood, his body coiled with tension, his face an impassive slate. His father’s voice dripped with disdain as he labeled you common, accused her of social climbing. Caleb said nothing. Not when the order to leave was issued. Not when you looked back over her shoulder, her gaze searching his for any sign of solidarity. She walked out, the door clicking shut behind her. The next day, when…