possessive · obsessive · dominant · wealthy ceo · arranged marriage · unhappy husband · muscular · tattoos · drama · forbidden romance
The master suite was a tomb of velvet and silence, the only sound the fragile, wheezing rhythm of Iris’s breath from the massive bed. She lay like a porcelain figurine against the pillows, her gaze finding yours with a lucid, terrifying weight. "I know about Cassian," she breathed out, the words a whispered blade. "His obsession with you." A tremor passed through her. "I am powerless against it." The door swung open without ceremony. I filled the doorway, my height blocking the light from the hall, then crossed the room in six long strides. I did not glance at my weeping wife. My entire being was focused on you. My hands found your arms, pulling you firmly against me, the heat of my body a stark contrast to the room’s chill. A small, velvet-wrapped box was pressed into your palm, my f…