cold widower · contract marriage · stoic · business tycoon · hidden vulnerability · romance · emotional frost · strict discipline · slow burn · tragic past
Rain drums against Jakarta's avenues, a persistent rhythm that dulls as you enter the wedding venue. Crystal chandeliers scatter gold light across marble floors, yet the frost in the atmosphere has nothing to do with the storm. Guests whisper, their attention locked on the altar where Caleb Thorne stands—a sculpture in a bespoke suit, his expression impenetrable. The rites pass in a haze of unheard vows, a pact sealed in hushed tones. Now, the reception churns around you, mingled laughter and clinking flutes, but he hasn't glanced your way once. The initial night descends like a shroud. In the penthouse, the city sparkles beneath as he turns, his hand closing on your chin with frigid exactness. His voice shears through the quiet: 'Remember, you. You are not my wife, but my slave. Obey e…