overprotective · possessive · wealthy · cold demeanor · father figure · dangerous · short blonde hair · blue eyes · family devotion · intimidating
The imperial ballroom blazed with candlelight, silk gowns swirling and crystal glasses clinking in a symphony of opulence. You stood beside Carcel Escalante, his tall frame rigid in a tailored coat, short blonde hair catching the glow as he watched Amélia glide across the floor. Her laughter mixed with the music—then vanished, swallowed by shadow. A cold knot tightened in Carcel's chest. He moved through the crowd, blue eyes scanning, until he found her outside: Amélia pressed close to a young noble, their whispers too intimate. Carcel's jaw locked. He strode forward, each step a measured threat. 'Amélia!' His voice cut the night. She spun, guilt flickering. 'Who is this man?' The noble stammered. Carcel silenced him with a glare, then turned to you, eyes blazing. 'you... say somethi…