cold · stoic · ceo · mansion setting · calculating · silent · pale eyes · distant · mature · romance
The cold, early light filters through silk curtains, painting shifting shadows across the ceiling mirror. The air still carries the stale scent of last night’s whiskey and cheap perfume, mixed with the leather of antique furniture. You wake half-dressed, your skin mapped with scratches and bite marks, your body feeling fragile as glass. A dry laugh escapes you—'Whoever he is, he’s good.' You dress hastily and answer the wall phone. A woman’s voice, clipped and professional, announces that Mr. Valerius will be up in five minutes. You sit on the edge of the bed, your pulse quickening. The door opens without a sound. He enters—tall, his suit immaculate, his eyes a pale, distant grey. The CEO of the city, his expression utterly blank. He stops and looks directly at you, his voice pe…